


Tuesday Nights

by chibi_nightowl



Series: Tuesday Nights [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - No Capes, Language, M/M, Random Literary References, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:57:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: “Look, I know we’ve only talked about books and shit, but if you want to talk to someone, I’m all ears. Bartender-customer confidentiality agreement in place," Jason says.A loud laugh escapes Tim. “And just what does that entail?”“You talk. I listen. I give my nickel’s worth of advice. If I hear you come back with the same sob story, I get to laugh in your face since I hate repeating myself.”





	1. A Man Walks Into the Bar...

Chapter 1 - A Man Walks Into the Bar...

Tuesday nights are slow. So slow Jason often wonders why he even opens the bar at all. The only time it’s really worthwhile is during March Madness or some other big playoff game. Still, it’s the only night he can get any reading done. _Though I could be reading upstairs in the loft than down here with the scent of spilled beer._

Jason turns the page, taking a quick look around at the few people present. Two are sitting over by the pool table watching a baseball game on the big screen over there. The third is sitting at the bar, slowly devouring a plate of fried pickles and spicy garlic aioli.

The third guy keeps catching Jason’s attention. He’s young, probably a bit younger than him, with black hair and blue eyes hidden behind some hipster looking glasses, and wearing a suit and tie that are _way_ too nice for this neighborhood. But unlike all the young suits Jason’s met in his life who are so full of energy and drive and ambition, this one gives off a sense of weariness that’s much more appropriate to someone twice his age. He also looks kind of familiar, though he can’t quite place him.

He came in about 30 minutes before, looking at his phone, then looking up at Jason like he wasn’t sure he’s in the right place. Sitting down at the bar in front of the TV Jason keeps on Cartoon Network on slow nights like this, the young man looks oddly out of place, though this bar used to cater to his type way back in the day before the neighborhood started going to shit. Or so Mike, the previous owner, told him when he started grooming Jason to take over. When the reins were in his hands, he’d made some modern upgrades, including new lighting, some _good_ TVs, and bought a cable package with all the sports channels.

The young man looks up at the TV, lips quirking in a small smile as he catches sight of _Adventure Time_. Jason set his book down and approaches him.

“Welcome in,” he says. “What’s your poison?”

A surprised look crosses the guy’s face. “Um,” he starts uncertainly. “I heard there are some really good fried pickles here. If I’m in the right place that is.”

Jason smirks. _Called it. He’s a foodie_. “Yeah, you’re in the right place. Single or double order?”

“Double. I haven’t eaten since lunch.” The man ducks his head down a bit like he expects to be reprimanded for that admission.

“Sure you don’t want something else besides pickles then? I got chicken tenders I can cook up.” When Jason took over the bar, something else he did was renovate one of the backrooms and turn it into a small kitchen. It wasn’t big, but it had an industrial fridge and freezer, a stove, and a deep fryer. He’d always been decent in the kitchen and liked to experiment. The fried pickles and spicy aioli that came with it were the results of his testing out different quick and easy bar foods and taking them up a notch or six. Word got around, especially on social media, and at least once a week Jason would get someone admitting they were here because of what they read online.

The man looks thoughtful for a second and then his stomach rumbles so loudly that even Jason hears it from where he’s leaning on the bar across from the man. He looks embarrassed as Jason barks out a quick laugh. “I think that answers that question,” he says as he stands back up.

The other guy nods. “Yeah!”

“Gimme a few minutes,” Jason says as he walks away.

He’s back pretty quick with the pickles and the aioli, which the suit tucks into with gusto. The chicken takes a bit longer to cook, so Jason finds himself flipping through the pages of his book, barely reading what’s in front of him as he watches the other guy eat. The timer pings, so he heads back to the kitchen to finish up the rest of the order.

As he sets the plate down in front of the man, Jason idly wonders what he’ll think of the doctored ketchup and mustard sauces that come with the chicken.

“Anything to drink?” he asks instead.

Wiping his fingers on the napkin Jason set down with the plate of pickles, he nods. “Jack and coke.”

The order slid easily off the man’s tongue, but Jason’s still a bit uncertain about his actual age. He’d easily been able to pass for 21 when he was still 17, thanks to a massive growth spurt and lifting all kinds of heavy shit for Mike when he started working here part-time. “Let’s see some ID first,” he says. “Those glasses make you look like you’re 16.”

A tired laugh escapes the man as he runs a hand through his already messy black hair. At some point during the day, it may have been styled, but now it’s just a mess. “I get that all the time,” he says as he pulls out his wallet from inside his jacket pocket. He slides out his driver’s license and hands it to Jason.

“Then get a new pair of glasses,” Jason replies as he looks at the ID. It’s a bit worn, which makes it look more legit than the fresh and new false IDs he’s confiscated over the years. But as he reads the birthdate, takes a look at the picture, then the name he’s seeing, it finally dawns on him why the guy looks a bit familiar.

 _Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne_ read the full name on the driver’s license.

Jason felt his eyes widen in surprise. He looks back at the man, who’s wearing a tired smile on his face like he’s used to this kind of reaction, then back at the ID. Shaking his head and huffing a small laugh, Jason hands the license back to him. “I think you pass,” he says and turns to get started with his order.

“Thanks,” Tim Drake-Wayne says as he shoves a chicken tender into the mustard sauce and takes a bite. His eyes widen at the taste. Jason smirks as he sets down the glass.

“Damn, this sauce is amazing,” the young executive says. “I read that you make all your own sauces here, but wow. This is awesome.” He takes another bite, this time using the ketchup.

“Thanks,” Jason says as he leans back and crosses his arms. “The bases are just basic ketchup, mustard, mayo, things like that. I just add shit to ‘em to make it better.” He’s slightly blown away by the fact that one of Gotham’s elite is sitting in _his_ bar gushing over _his_ food. _What the ever loving fuck is going on tonight? It’s like the Twilight Zone or something._

The slightly surreal feeling continues as Tim Drake-Wayne eats and chats with him for the next hour. Jason periodically has to step away to top off beers and make some more food for the other guys in the bar, but he keeps coming back. Tim asks about his book and they both nerd out over the show playing above them on the TV. He’s easy to talk to and Jason finds himself opening up a bit more than he usually does with his patrons. He’s the bartender after all, people spill their problems to him, not the other way around.

“So what really brought you in tonight?” Jason asks as he sets another glass in front of Tim, this time with water as the man admitted he doesn’t drink much.

Tim sighs and rubs the side of his face tiredly. The sense of weariness was back, stronger than before. “Had a bad day, more so than usual. When I left, I just started driving, not really caring where I ended up. When I finally stopped, I was almost right out front of the bar. I checked to see if there were any reviews and was blown away at what I saw. Did you know you have a 4.5 star rating on Yelp?” he asks quizzically.

Jason laughs. “Yeah and it’s not just because of my pretty face. The neighborhood keeps most of the hipsters away though.”

The grin that appears lights up Tim’s face and Jason feels a surge of _want_ slam him in the gut. _Fuck, he’s gorgeous when he smiles like that. You don’t see that look in the papers_.

“Good to know,” Tim says as he downs his water almost in one gulp. He pulls out his phone and glances at the time. The bright glow dims back down as he makes a face at what he sees.

“Gotta go?” Jason asks. He feels oddly sad at the prospect. He’s been enjoying himself, talking with Tim.

“Yeah,” he replies with a sigh. “I’ve got an early conference call in the morning and need to try and get some sleep before I head in.”

Jason snorts as he tallies up the bill. “You’d think being the Vice President or whatever would let you get to sleep later while the peons have to work with your schedule.”

Tim laughs loudly, slapping his hand on the bar as he tries to control himself. “You’d think!” he says. He pulls out his wallet and hands Jason a credit card.

Running the card, he hands Tim the tablet to sign. Jason loved the switch he made a few months back in the payment system. Tips had gotten better too.

“Thanks for everything,” Tim says as he slides off the barstool. “I needed this.” He gestures, taking in the bar and the TV and Jason.

A cocky grin appears on Jason’s face. “You know where to find me,” he says.

A small smile graces Tim’s face, almost secretive, as he takes a final look at Jason. “Yeah, I do.” He nods and heads out the door.

Jason watches every step. _Goddamn, but he’s interesting. Haven’t had a conversation like that in a long time._ He looks down at the tablet in his hands and his eyes widen at the $50 tip on the $20 tab. He glances back at the door. _Guess he liked it too._

*****

The next Tuesday night, Tim comes back. The bar’s a bit busier thanks to the baseball playoffs, but it’s late enough Jason can still talk to him between customers. He’s in much better spirits than the week before and he leaves the same big tip when he heads out the door a little after 11.

The same thing happens the next week.

And the week after.

Pretty soon, Jason decides it’s safe to say Tim’s become a regular. He still only drinks a single jack and coke and devours a double order of the fried pickles, sometimes switching it up and ordering the chicken tenders too, though that only happens when he's skipped lunch for whatever reason.

“Why don’t you print an actual menu?” he asks one quiet night when it’s just the two of them.

“Cuz I change things up just often enough that printing new menus would be a bitch. You don’t like my chalkboard?” Jason gestures to the board hanging over the bar. Kori, a part-time waitress who only works Friday and Saturday nights, had taken great delight in decorating the otherwise plain board in a variety of different colored chalk. She and her fiancé Roy were Jason’s best friends.

Yet he still hasn’t told either of them about the newest regular to the bar.

Tim gives the chalkboard a considering look as he sucks the last of his drink through a cheap red straw, making a slurping noise in the process. “I guess it has character,” he decides.

“It has character,” Jason repeats mockingly, but not at all seriously. He’s comfortable enough around Tim now that he lets out his more charming personality traits. “So says the rich boy.”

“Did you take a marketing class? I did.”

“Fuck you, Drake.”

Tim laughs, knowing by now that Jason’s more bark than bite most of the time. “You certainly have a way with words. Do you speak to all your customers like this?” he says in a teasing voice.

Jason crosses his arms across his light gray t-shirt. “Yeah, I do.”

The young executive looks curiously at Jason. “Doesn’t your boss get mad at you swearing at them?”

A wry smirk teases Jason’s lips. “Kinda dumb to start yelling at myself, don’t you think?”

“You’re the boss?” Tim asks, sitting up straighter and looking at Jason with interest. “You’re not that much older than me.”

Jason shrugs, trying for nonchalant and failing miserably as he grins. “I own this place. Own the whole fucking building actually.”

“Yeah? How’d that happen? Or are you secretly a real estate mogul masquerading as a bar owner?”

“Inherited the place. Previous owner did really well for himself, but had no family. He liked how I cleaned up my act and started grooming me to take over. I thought I was just going to be running the bar for him when he insisted I take some business and accounting classes, so imagine my surprise when he died a few years ago to find I now owned this whole damn building.”

Cleaned up his act was putting it nicely. Jason grew up on the streets of Crime Alley, doing whatever it took to just survive. He’d always been smart, too smart really, and managed to avoid being roped into one of the myriad of gangs roving the area. School was a dream, but over in New Town, he charmed the librarians at the public library and they’d let him stay for _hours_ and just read whatever struck his interest. As he got older and bigger, he started picking up odd jobs here and there, wherever he could get paid in cash.

It was during one of these odd jobs that he met Mike, the owner of the bar here in the Bowery. Jason was never sure exactly what it was, but the old man took a shine to him, giving him the chance he needed to become more than another Gotham statistic. When he turned 18, he went through the hassle of finding out his Social Security number so he could get a real ID and take his GED. He was also finally able to get paid with a check that could be deposited into a bank account. Mike had to co-sign with him to get the account open, but it was one of the best moments of Jason’s life when he took that check to the teller window to deposit it like a normal person.

A year or so after that, Mike started making noises about wanting to retire, so Jason enrolled in some classes at Gotham Community College. He learned business and accounting because he had to, but enjoyed the literature and language courses the most. His professors were amazed with his papers after they got over the shock of the punk kid with the white streak in his black hair and multiple piercings who looked like he was never paying attention doing better than all the goody two shoes sitting in the front row. One professor insisted he was having someone write his papers for him until he proved her wrong after going in front of her and the dean to write a three page paper, with references, on the prevalence of jazz music and how it set the tone in most of Haruki Murakami’s early works. They’d just finished reading the _Elephant Vanishes_ in class, so he still had a copy of the book in his backpack for reference.

Tim looks quietly impressed as he nods thoughtfully and takes a closer look around at the bar. It’s small, but it’s Jason’s. Something he never thought he’d ever call his own. “So what are you reading this week?” he asks, changing the topic.

Jason smirks as he reaches under the counter to drop a hardcover copy of _Good Omens_ in front of Tim. The other man had gone on and on for a good hour last week over how much he loved Neil Gaiman’s works, but admitting he hadn’t read much from Terry Pratchett, including this book, despite his favorite writer being the co-author. “I was inspired.”

The young man takes the book almost reverently and starts flipping through the pages. The well-worn book is the clean copy Jason owns. The other is all marked up with his notes and comments. “Okay, you win,” he says. “I’ll read it.”

“Good. When you’re done, then you can learn how to speak in ALL CAPITAL LETTERS.”

The amused look Tim gives him tells Jason the reference didn’t fly over his head. “You’re letting me borrow this?”

“Yeah,” Jason says with a nod. It’s very rare for him to lend out a book, but he trusts Tim enough to know he’ll take care of it. “I know you can buy and read it on your damn Kindle, but you need the full sensory experience to appreciate this book.”

The small smile that appears on Tim’s face gives Jason a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He looks so happy at what is admittedly a small gesture for a guy who could buy this entire building without putting a dent in his wallet. “I’ll read it this week,” he promises, looking at Jason with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

“I expect a riveting discussion next week.” He pushes the feeling aside. Tim is quickly becoming a friend, not someone to fall into bed with. _Though he is fucking hot. I bet he looks amazing when he’s coming._ _Goddammit, stop it!_

Oblivious to the inner turmoil Jason’s going through, Tim replies, “I won’t miss it for the world.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I need to be working on the last few chapters of the Cleansing, but I needed to get this out of my system. Will be short, about 3-4 chapters, maybe? I think? It's all plotted out at least. :)
> 
> Enjoy my attempt at a bar AU!


	2. Two Shots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes PLOT!

Chapter 2 - Two Shots

A week passes and the following Tuesday night, Jason finds himself still waiting for Tim to arrive. It’s almost 10 and he’s seriously thinking of closing up early so he can read his book in peace upstairs as the bar’s completely empty. Tim’s never this late.

Glancing at the clock, it reads 9:51. _I’ll give it til 10, then I’m locking up._ Jason flips the page of his book. He’s feeling a bit nostalgic tonight and had dragged out an old beaten up copy of the _Diamond Throne_. The author’s dry humor and wit always amused him. The book was one of the first pieces of fantasy he’d tried after devouring the _Hobbit_ at the local library when he was 11.

It was one minute to 10 when Jason hears the slam of a car door out front. He eyes the door and sure enough, it opens, revealing Tim Drake-Wayne looking like death warmed over. His expensive suit is limp and sad instead of the clean and crisp it likely started the day out as. He isn’t even wearing a tie and the collar of his pale blue dress shirt is open. Jason could just see the collar of his undershirt peeking through. He’s carrying a large leather messenger bag.

Setting his book down on the counter, Jason takes a few steps towards Tim as the other man sits wearily down in the same place he usually does, shrugging off his expensive pinstripe suit jacket and laying across the stool next to him. If he seemed world weary and tired the first night they met, he seemed just _done_ this week. “Hey,” he says as Tim gives him a bleary look. _Something tells me we’re not going to be discussing a book tonight._

“Hey,” the man replies.

“Okay, so it’s probably none of my business, but are you all right? You look like shit.” That was putting it mildly.

Tim takes off his glasses and rubs his face in exhaustion. “Worst. Day. Ever.”

Jason knows Tim well enough at this point that he just reaches under the counter for a couple of shot glasses and sets them in front of the young man.

Tim’s eyes widen at the sight. He puts his glasses back on, like he was expecting to see something different by doing so.

Jason turns away for a moment to peruse the bottles on the back wall. “You look like you need a shot of something, but I’m not sure I want to waste the good whiskey on you tonight. You like tequila? Vodka?”

“Vodka,” a tired voice says from behind him.

He grabs a bottle from the shelf. It’s not the most expensive bottle, but it’s not the cheap shit he puts into the vodka cranberries he mixes for people. Turning around, he twists the cap off and pours two generous shots. Setting the bottle down, he waits.

Tim watches his movements closely, like he’s analyzing each and every step to make sure he could repeat it later. He looks up at Jason, then reaches for one of the shots.

Jason takes his and holds it up in a mock salute and tips it back, finishing it in one big gulp, never taking his eyes off Tim. The vodka is smooth and burns pleasantly all the way down.

The young man’s baby blues widen beneath the smart-looking frames of his glasses at the smooth movement and eyes his shot carefully. He then mimics Jason’s salute and slams it back. He swallows, then gasps as the burn hits him. He slams a fist on to the bar as he tries to catch his breath.

Chuckling, Jason pours another round. “First one’s always the worst. Have another, then I’ll let you drink water or soda for as long as you like.”

Tim nods, already reaching for the second shot. “I think I’m going to need some food to absorb this.”

“I’ll turn on the fryer in a second. Pickles?” _Like he ever orders anything else._

Nodding, Tim slams the second shot just as quickly as the first one. Jason finishes his and sets the vodka bottle beneath the counter. “I’ll be right back with some pub-mix. I turned off the fryer a bit ago, so it needs to warm up.”

As he walks away, he tosses a concerned glance over his shoulder at the young Wayne heir. _What the fuck is up with him? It looks like someone shot his puppy then ran over the corpse in front of him._ The day-to-day concerns of his customers didn’t usually concern him. Even the weepy drunks knew that Jason was going to call their bullshit even if he was willing to listen to them talk as they drowned out their sorrows over cheap alcohol.

But Tim is already different, even though he’s only been coming here for a month now. _It’s not because he’s richer than sin and lives the high life of the rich and famous either. He’s…interesting. We’ve got a lot in common, despite our completely different upbringing._ Jason thinks as he turns on the fryer and grabs a bowl from the clean stack in the cupboard for the pub-mix he makes special. _I like him as a person. He’s a fucking nerd which is hotter than hell, but that’s besides the point. Like that’s ever going happen._ He pours out a generous serving of the mix from its sealed container and heads back out front.

_What happened today?_

Tim’s sitting exactly as Jason left him, arm propped up on the bar with his head leaning on it as he sits slouched on the barstool, the black leather bag resting on the floor. His black hair is kind of long and looks in need of a hair cut as it falls into his eyes.

Jason sets the bowl in front of Tim. He reaches for a handful of the mix with his free hand and pours it into his mouth. As he chews, he looks thoughtfully at the rest of the handful he took. Swallowing, Tim’s gaze turns on Jason. “I don’t know what it is you do, but even chex-mix tastes awesome here.”

“What can I say, I’ve got a gift,” he replies as he leans back against the counter on the backside of the bar, crossing his arms. “Fryer’s gonna be at least 10 minutes, so eat up. I don’t want to call you a cab later.”

Tim huffs another of his small laughs. “Am I cut off already?” he asks as he starts playing with the empty shot glass in front of him.

“For now. Let’s see how you’re doing after some food.” Jason wants to tell Tim to start talking, but knows he’s got no right to. _Patience, Jaybird. He came here for a reason after all. He’ll talk if he wants to._ If there was one thing he’s learned in the almost 10 years he’d been working here, people would talk on their own when they were good and ready. Or liquored up enough. He doesn’t think Tim is that far gone, but he looks a damn sight more relaxed than when he first came in.

While Tim eats, Jason ducks out the other side of the bar closest to the door and turns off the lights in the windows and locks the front door. If Tim does decide to say anything, he doesn’t want to risk someone else wandering in and interrupting. Because if he is interrupted, Jason has a very good feeling he won’t keep going.

As he turns back, he sees Tim’s turned on the stool and is watching him. “Why’d you do that?” he asks. There’s a question in his voice.

Jason shrugs as he heads back to the bar. “Kinda getting the feeling you want privacy, ‘specially if you decide to get shit-faced later after you’ve eaten somethin’.”

“Thanks,” Tim says quietly as he looks at Jason with wonder in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says a bit defensively. “It’s like no one’s ever done something nice for you before.”

Tim ducks his head at the perceived reprimand, then holds it up again. “Let’s just say it’s been awhile.”

Jason pours the man a glass of water and sets it down in front of him. “Look, I know we’ve only talked about books and shit, but if you want to talk to someone, I’m all ears. Bartender-customer confidentiality agreement in place.”

A loud laugh escapes Tim. “And just what does that entail?” he asks as he takes a sip of water.

Pouring himself a glass of water, Jason sets it down on the counter next to him. “You talk. I listen. I give my nickel’s worth of advice. If I hear you come back with the same sob story, I get to laugh in your face since I hate repeating myself.”

Tim stares at him with an incredulous look on his face before laughing so hard he almost falls off the stool. “Oh my god,” he says as he pulls himself upright. “That’s hilarious.”

Jason shrugs. “Hilarious, but true. I’ll listen if it’s a new sob story, but the way I look at it, you either roll with the punches or get up off your ass and do something about it.”

“Life experience?” The question sounds flippant, but there’s a look in Tim’s eyes that’s telling Jason he’s serious.

“Yeah,” Jason says. “Guess which option I chose?”

Tim sighs, the melancholy look from earlier returning. “If only it were that easy,” he says. “I’m getting torn to shreds at work by my little brother and my dad won’t do a damn thing.”

 _Finally._ “Isn’t your little brother still a minor? How can he have the power to do anything?”

The Waynes are Gotham royalty, everyone knows at least a bit about them. Bruce Wayne tragically loses his parents at the tender age of nine and grows up to become one of the sharpest business tycoons in the world, as well as one of the biggest philanthropists. He adopts a circus brat who lost his parents in a horrific accident. Richard Grayson is the golden child for the longest time, but doesn’t forget his humble roots. Jason remembers reading a headline that said he’s a cop in Bludhaven of all places now.

The next kid is Timothy Drake, the only son of the husband-wife CEO team of Drake Industries. Gotham born and bred, Tim’s parents are killed in a botched kidnapping attempt and Bruce Wayne takes him in as well, buying up Drake Industries in the process. Tim’s the smart one and Bruce starts grooming him to be the perfect Wayne heir until a past indiscretion comes along to bite Bruce in the ass.

Damian Wayne is Bruce’s only blood son and if half the rumors Jason’s heard the media circulate are even true, he’s an entitled little shit who thinks the world revolves around him and that the rest of humanity should just bow down before him.

“He has the power because Bruce can’t take it away from him. He can’t say no to Damian. Even after all these years, he’s still afraid that if he makes the wrong move or says the wrong thing, Damian will up and leave and go back to his mother’s family.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “So what’d he do? Sabotage you?”

Tim snorts. “He’s been trying to do that every day for the last seven years. I’m used to it. But this time…” he sighs again before continuing. “This time he managed to discredit me in front of the board of directors _and_ Bruce at the same time. The little shit somehow falsified information that the performance of a new microchip WayneTech is developing isn’t going as well as the reports _I made_ have indicated. He’s implied that I’m continuing to pour money into a project that isn’t going to have the results I’ve been promising.”

“And that’s the complete opposite of what’s happening?”

“Yes!” Tim shouts in frustration, pounding on the wooden bar again. “It’s the complete opposite. This chip is going to revolutionize biomedical engineering and the damn fucker is _this close_ ,” Tim holds two fingers barely a hairsbreadth a part, “to convincing Bruce to pull the plug completely.”

“So what stopped him?”

“I convinced him to get a third opinion from someone not involved with the project but with the necessary background to understand what they’re looking at.”

Jason opens his mouth to speak, but hears the ping of the timer going off for the fryer. Tim waves his hand. “Go,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere and I don’t want a grease fire on our hands.”

“Back in a few.”

The pickles fry up quickly and Jason tosses some chicken tenders in too. He’s hungry enough to break his usual rule of not eating what he serves on a nightly basis. Pulling open the wide doors of the fridge, he looks inside for something other than fried food and spots the salad mix he’d picked up on a whim the other day. The ladies who frequent the bar like something a bit lighter when they’re cheering on their favorite teams.

As he works, he thinks about what Tim told him. _I’ve never really had a dad before, but I do know what it feels like to be betrayed and that’s exactly what Bruce fucking Wayne did to Tim. Christ, no wonder he looks like shit._ Jason tries his best to hide it, but he’s got a soft spot for the people he likes and Tim’s somehow managed to worm his way in through Jason’s first layer of defenses. And now, here he is with a problem that a good punch in the face won’t solve.

When that happens, Jason goes into what Roy calls his mother-hen mode. Kori just says he likes to feed people. Both are right, which explains the large tray of food and plates he puts together in no time flat.

Coming out of the kitchen, Jason detours away from the bar and towards one of the booths in the corner where there’s a couple of tables set up. “Over here,” he says, catching Tim’s attention from where he’s been staring at his shot glass. The young executive gets up and sways slightly as his feet hit the floor.

Jason chuckles. “Stagger your ass over here and start eating. I’ll get you some more water.” He walks quickly back to the bar and grabs Tim’s water glass and refills it, pouring one for himself in the process. The vodka from earlier hasn’t affected him at all, but he’s not planning to get drunk tonight if he can help it.

The way Tim was staring at the shot glass makes him think he just might be.

Tim is tucked away in the corner of the booth, already halfway through a piece of chicken. He’s got half a plate of pickles and the other half loaded with the salad Jason found.

“Didn’t expect to see green stuff on the menu,” he says as Jason sits down across from him and sets down the water.

“You’re eating pickles, they’re green.” Jason starts loading his plate.

“Hardy har,” Tim replies. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. Balances out all the fried shit you’re eating. Enjoy it.”

The look Tim gives him is almost fond. “I am. I don’t eat like this often.”

“Yeah, I bet 5-star restaurants don’t serve fried pub food on their menus.”

“No, they don’t,” Tim agrees. “But I think any of these sauces could find a happy home on their menus.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Jason replies.

***** 

They eat in relative silence and Jason lets Tim follow him to the kitchen when he picks up the tray and the dishes. He fills the big sink and starts washing, using the large dishwasher as a drying rack for the few plates and glasses. Tim leans against the metal kitchen island, watching, but lost in thought when Jason sneaks glances at him. He’s rolled up his shirtsleeves at some point, revealing pale, but surprisingly strong looking arms.

The conversation from earlier hasn’t continued, but Jason suspects Tim got the worst of it out. _Christ, I can’t even imagine the kind of responsibility he’s got on his shoulders. He’s certainly not what I was expecting. High rolling party boy Tim Drake-Wayne is not._

As Jason finishes up the dishes, Tim finally speaks up. “Jason, I… Thanks. For tonight. I know we didn’t get to talk about the book like we planned, so…rain check?” The hopeful tone in his voice made the bigger man turn around, hands still dripping with warm soapy water.

“Of course,” he replies. “Shit happens. I get it.”

“Yeah.” Tim’s face twists in a weird way, like he’s debating whether he wants to say something, but thinking better of it. His mouth firms in an even line as he makes his decision. _Hard to believe this is one of the top young businessmen in the world. His face is an open book._ “Do you want to meet up later this week? For lunch or maybe coffee?” The hopeful tone is back.

 _Holy shit. Is he…?_ Jason crosses his arms, completely disregarding how the action makes his red t-shirt wet. “I don’t drink coffee,” he says, then continues quickly as Tim’s face drops. “But lunch is good. I eat anything.” _Years of not knowing when and where the next meal is coming from will do that to a person._

The look on Tim’s face is like Christmas morning. “Awesome! Um, I’m guessing you probably sleep late, so what’s the best time for you?”

“Any day really. Except for Thursday afternoons, that’s when I get deliveries.”

“Even on the weekend?” Tim knew the weekends were his busiest days.

“I do have employees you know.”

“Could have fooled me.” There was no mistaking the look on Tim’s face for anything other than amusement. The man has a wicked sense of humor when he chooses to unleash it. “How about Friday afternoon then? I usually only work half days.”

“Sounds good. You coming here first or do you want to meet somewhere?” Jason knew it was a loaded question. He’s still surprised Gotham’s paparazzi hasn’t discovered Tim’s new watering hole.

“Let me get back to you on that.” Tim pulls out his phone. “I’ll text you. What’s your number?”

Jason rattles off his cell number, watching Tim’s finger tap deftly across the smooth screen of his cell. He’s glad he left his upstairs. It’s a cheap prepaid model that still has actual buttons and a screen that glows a bright blue in the dark. He’s never been embarrassed by it before; he’s never had much use for it other than to make calls and receive random texts from Kori and Roy, sometimes Stephanie, the waitress who works Saturday and Sunday afternoons at the bar. But looking at Tim’s phone, undoubtedly the latest model from WayneTech, he recognizes the gap yet again between him and the other man.

“There,” Tim says, tucking his phone away. “I sent you a text so you have my number now too.” He looks so earnest that Jason doesn’t want to say anything about this perhaps being a bad idea. Flashing back to their earlier discussion, Jason suddenly realizes something rather important about Tim.

He’s pushed around and beaten down every day by his little brother, yet he keeps getting back up to do his job for a man who it sounds like doesn’t even look at him anymore. _He has to be stubborn as hell to put up with that kind of shit._ His reactions around Jason are _genuine_ because he’s _comfortable_ with the slightly older man.

The desire to reach out and pull Tim into a hug is strong. He settles for reaching out and ruffling the shorter man’s hair. “You’re a dork,” he says.

Tim’s eyes widen at the action and tilts his head slightly to follow Jason’s fingers as he pulls them back. “Sorry,” he stutters out.

“About being a dork? Don’t be. I like you the way you are.” Jason smirks, trying to lighten the mood. _Goddamn, but he’s touch deprived._

An honest to God blush starts coloring Tim’s cheeks. “You like me?” he almost squeaks.

“Yeah,” Jason says. “I don’t close my bar early for just anyone. I also sure as hell don’t make lunch plans with my other regular customers either.”

“Thanks Jay,” Tim replies. “Um, about before…I vented, but I never got hear your nickel’s worth of advice.”

Jason laughs and turns around to unplug the sink. “Let me think,” he says. Wiping his hands on a towel, he slings an arm over Tim’s narrow shoulders and walks him back out to the main room. Tim initially stiffens at the action, then relaxes. Stopping at the pool table, Jason takes a key from his pocket to override the payment slot. Tim gets the hint and walks around the table to select a pool cue while Jason racks the balls.

“Do you even play?” he asks after grabbing his own cue.

In response, Tim takes the white cue ball and carefully takes aim, expertly breaking the balls at the other end of the table, though nothing goes into a pocket. He raises an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Jason snorts. “Rich boy, you probably know all the rules, but have you ever sharked anyone for cash over this game?”

“No,” Tim admits with a shake of his head. “We making wager?”

“Fuck no,” Jason says as he takes aim. “Something tells me I’d be the one getting sharked.”

They play two games, bantering easily back and forth while Jason thinks about what to say to Tim. They’re starting the third one when Jason finally speaks up.

“So, I’m not exactly sure what to say about what you said earlier,” he starts in a serious tone. “Your life is so different from mine. But I do know what it’s like to be dicked over and I fucking hated it.”

“What did you do?” Tim asks, head cocked slightly to the side. He’s pulled a hair tie from somewhere to tie his hair back in a half ponytail when it kept falling into his eyes. It’s a good look for him.

“When I was younger and more stupid, I fought back with my fists. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but I’m no stranger to Gotham’s juvenile detention system. As I got older and less stupid, I fought back in other, more creative ways.”

He has Tim’s interest. “Like?” he asks.

“Like when I caught shit at college for being a punk ass, I showed each and every professor just how fucking wrong they were to judge me by my looks. I aced each and every one of my damn tests, even the ones they made me take again thinking I was cheating.”

Jason could see Tim was getting the gist of what he’s trying to say. “You think I should find a more creative way to send Damian packing.”

Shrugging his heavy shoulders, Jason lines up his next shot and nails it, sending the solid green ball into a center pocket. “Perhaps. I’m kinda of the opinion Bruce needs a big fucking wakeup call to just what damage his son is going to do if he succeeds in pushing you aside. I say fight for your project, because that sounds fucking amazing, and when it’s secure, take a vacation. A _long_ one. Like a month or two. I’m sure you have the time saved up, you damn workaholic.”

Tim doesn’t respond right away, already lost in thought as he idly swings the cue back and forth from hand to hand. Jason takes his next shot, then the next, before Tim’s turn comes around again. He may be thinking, but he’s still aware of what’s going on as he sinks two striped balls in quick succession.

Jason lets him have his space and the game is almost done before Tim finally speaks up. “There’s a certain beauty to letting Bruce see what Damian will do if I’m not around, but I’m afraid of what will happen to good people in the process.”

“Does he have the power to fire people?”

“Not yet,” Tim shakes his head. “He’s only 17, but he’ll be 18 at the end of next month.”

“Don’t you have to be at least a college graduate to run a Fortune 100 company?” Jason’s genuinely curious.

The snort that escapes Tim makes Jason reevaluate that thought. “You’d think. I have three degrees and I’m barely listened to at all when Damian’s in the room. Nepotism at it’s best. I’m the fucking adopted son.” The bitterness in Tim’s voice is accompanied by the sharp crack of the cue ball slamming into the black 8-ball and sending it flying into the corner pocket.

The tone of Tim’s voice makes Jason decide to go get the vodka. “So take your project, the good people, and start your own company.” He sets his cue aside and walks over to the bar, leaning over to grab the bottle he opened earlier and snag the shot glasses.

He expects to see Tim racking up the balls for the next game when he turns around, but he’s just standing there with a surprised look on his face. Jason sees a stripe of blue on his cheek from some chalk dust. “Tim?” he asks concernedly.

“That’s fucking _brilliant_ ,” the shorter man says in awe. “Oh my God, that’s _perfect_.” He drops the cue stick against the side of the pool table and rushes over to Jason, wrapping him in a tight hug, letting go just as quickly to drop to his knees and dig into the big black bag Jason almost forgot he’d brought in earlier. He drags out a very nice and slim laptop, sitting right there on the floor in his blue pinstripe suit pants and opening it up. His pulls up something and his fingers start flying across the keyboard.

 _Genius at work_. Jason shakes his head and sets the glasses and vodka back on the bar. He putters around the bar for a bit, cleaning up, even going to the kitchen once to finish up the dishes.

Tim is still on the floor typing like a madman when he comes back. Jason rolls his eyes and grabs his book, sitting down in one of the booths and letting Tim get whatever got into his head out of his system.

Jason loses himself in the world of Sparhawk for a good hour before Tim finally comes out of it. “Ow,” he says, standing up carefully and setting his laptop on the bar. “I think my leg fell asleep.”

“Gotta admit, I’ve seen a lot of strange things in the time I’ve been here, but I think _mad genius businessman_ sitting on my floor in his good suit writing a business proposal takes the cake.” Jason gets up and gets Tim some water. He’s so jumpy Jason doubts he needs any caffeine.

“Not quite a proposal, not yet,” Tim admits, drinking down the water in a few quick gulps. “More like laying the preliminary legwork if it comes to that.”

“Always be prepared?”

“And at least five steps ahead of everyone else. Though I didn’t learn that in Boy Scouts.” Tim smirks and Jason feels his stomach twist again. _He’s so goddamned brilliant. Here he is planning what could be the coup of the century and all I want to do is bend him over the bar and make him scream. Get it together Todd_.

“What else they teach you in Boy Scouts?” he asks, trying to distract himself from the way Tim looks. A few stray pieces of hair have fallen from his ponytail and into his face.

“How to make a fire.” Tim directs his sharp blue gaze onto Jason and he feels his breath catch. There’s no mistaking the meaning in that look. _Oh, fuck yes!_

Jason feels himself grinning, knowing it’s what Steph calls his cocky as hell shit-eating grin. “Well, you’ll have to show me sometime how the Boy Scouts do it. Then I can show you how we do it in Crime Alley.”

“Deal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a second chapter in as many days? Why yes, yes it is. At the rate I'm going, this may be done by the weekend. We'll see.


	3. Personal Preferences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter has some of my most favorite dialogue. Jason certainly has a way with words! :P

Chapter 3 - Personal Preferences

Thursday afternoon finds Jason in the loading dock at the back of his building sorting boxes and checking off items from the inventory list against the packing slips. It’s tedious work, but he prefers to do it himself. Roy’s up front minding the bar. There’re a couple of Thursday night games people are starting to trickle in for.

He’s sorting cases of beer when the red haired man comes to the dock, carrying the portable phone from Jason’s cramped office. “Hey Jaybird, you got a call.”

Jason looks up. “At this time of day?”

“Yeah. Says his name is Tim and that he’s been trying to get a hold of you for the last few hours on your cell.” Roy looks ready to tease the hell out of Jason. He knows how rare it is for the other man to give out his cell number, let alone carry the damn thing on him.

“Fuck,” Jason curses, setting down the case. “Gimme,” he says, gesturing for the phone.

Roy holds it back for a moment. “Only if you promise to tell me what’s going on. When I asked what he’s calling about, he said lunch plans for tomorrow.” The man smirks.

“You’re an asshole.” It’s the closest he’ll come to agreeing, but Roy accepts it as Jason giving in and hands over the phone.

“Line 2,” he says and walks away.

“Fucker,” Jason mutters as he looks at the phone. Line 2 is already flashing, which means Roy never put it on hold. “Hey, Tim,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry about Roy, he doesn’t know how to mute a line.”

Tim replies with a laugh. “So I heard. Sorry to bother you at work, but I’ve been texting for a while and haven’t heard back from you. Just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tomorrow.”

Jason could just hear the undertone of uncertainty and was quick to reassure the man. “Yeah, we are, so no worries. I just don’t carry my phone with me all the time. Sometimes it’s better to call the bar if you don’t hear back right away.”

“You don’t text much, do you?”

“I do, I just have a crap phone,” he admits finally. “Never really needed it for more than the occasional call or text.”

“Wow, really?” The surprise is evident in Tim’s voice. “I don’t think I could live without mine.”

 _Yet another difference between your world and mine_. “Well, that’s why you get paid the big bucks.”

“I guess. Anyways, about tomorrow,” Tim changes the subject quickly. “I was thinking it might be easier if I came to the bar and picked you up. At first, I thought about having you meet me here, see where I work for a change, but then I remembered you could possibly meet the demonspawn and thought that’d be a bad idea.”

Jason snorts. “For him. Though I suppose punching a minor in the face would land me in jail pretty quickly.”

The comment gets the desired laugh out of Tim. “God, I’d pay good money to see that. You punching him, not the jail part. So does that work for you? About 1?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll make sure the peanut gallery doesn’t give you crap when you get here.”

“Can’t be worse than what I deal with here,” Tim says diplomatically.

“Probably, but we can get raunchy, rich boy.”

“You should hear the talk at a society event then. The innuendos put Shakespeare to shame.”

“Fuck, really?” Jason loves the Bard. “I’d almost want to go to one just to hear that.”

Tim laughs. “Perhaps that can be arranged. Anyways, I got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve got the book in my bag already.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

Jason hangs up and looks at the phone in amazement. _Fuck, did Tim just say he’d take me to a high society event? Shit...I don’t even own a suit, let alone one of those fancy tuxes. Ain’t no way a rental would pass at a place like that. What the hell am I even thinking like this for? Cross that bridge when we come to it._

He finishes up with the inventory and starts carrying things to the backroom and putting them away. After a few trips, Roy comes back to start helping.

Roy and Jason go back quite a ways. Both men had rough childhoods, but while the worst habit Jason picked up was smoking, Roy had gone for the harder stuff. A recovering heroin addict, one would think working in a bar would be counterproductive to his efforts at recovery, but Roy swore the place was soothing. That seeing other people being happy or sad and pouring out their problems helps him keep things in perspective.

When he’s not working at the bar, Roy spends his time tinkering with computers and just about anything mechanical. Jason and Kori call him the car whisperer, as he’s a genius at figuring out exactly what’s wrong with any kind of vehicle. He works part time at an auto mechanic shop in New Town and runs his computer business on the side. Thursday through Sunday sees him at the bar in the afternoon for the opening shift while Jason takes the closing shifts.

“So…” Roy drawls as he stacks cases of beer on the reinforced shelf. “Who’s Tim?”

“A new friend,” Jason replies shortly. He knows very well Roy would get everything out of him, but damned if he wasn’t going to make the man work for it.

“A new friend, huh? Since when do you get out and meet new people?”

“I meet new people all the time. Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Customers don’t count.” Roy’s eyes widen and his brows rise comically. “Shit, you met him here! C’mon, Jay, spill!”

Jason hides his grin as he picks up another large case. “He comes in on Tuesdays. He’s a total nerd.”

“Cute?” Roy’s been friends with Jason long enough to know the first thing that attracts his friend to another person is their mind. Looks are just a bonus.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Jason replies.

“He into guys?”

Jason nods slowly. “Pretty sure.” _That look the other night certainly said so_.

“That’s great, Jaybird. ‘Bout time you started seeing somebody.”

“Not everyone can land someone like Kori, you know.” Kori’s a former swimsuit and underwear model who manages Roy’s business and helps with Jason’s books too. The gorgeous redhead modeled her way through college and graduated a couple years ago with an accounting degree, having quite the head for numbers. Jason’s still not sure how she puts up with Roy’s shit.

“Yeah, I know.” Roy grins lecherously.

Jason can’t wait to see the look on Roy’s face when he finally realizes who Tim is. It might take a bit, unless Tim’s had his face on the cover of a tech magazine.

“Tim’s picking me up for lunch tomorrow about 1. You gonna be on time?”

“Fuck yeah! For you to have a date, I’ll even be here _early_!”

***** 

The next afternoon, Jason finds a bunch a little things to do while he waits for Tim to arrive. He’s more nervous than he expects. _It’s Tim fucking Drake-Wayne. I’m going to lunch with Tim Drake-Wayne._ Roy’s here, ready to take over when Tim shows up, and it isn’t helping that Kori’s come in early too.

“Relax, Jason,” she says, running a finely manicured nail across Jason’s broad shoulders to point out the tension running through them. “I’m sure Tim is a very nice person and won’t judge you for having Roy as a friend.” She’s wearing her usual outfit for the bar, short shorts that are almost indecent and a snug top. Her incredibly long red hair is hanging loose, but she’ll put it up when it gets busy. She insists she’s perfectly covered up compared to what she used to wear on a regular basis and that it brings in better tips. After seeing the way Kori worked the room one Friday night, Jason stopped arguing.

“Hey!” Roy shouts indignantly. “I resemble that remark!” Unlike Jason, who’s wearing jeans without holes in them and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, Roy’s decked out in his usual bar clothes, including holey jeans that should be in the trash at this point, a t-shirt for an indie band Jason’s never heard of, and has his hair tied back under a green bandana. _At least he’s not wearing his ball cap._

“No shit,” Jason snaps. “Seriously, do I need to start a fucking dress code around here? You look like you should be living on the streets.”

He and Roy banter back and forth, with Kori occasionally egging them on. It’s a routine, it’s something they enjoy, and Jason finds himself relaxing finally. They’re so focused on out quipping the other that Jason completely misses Tim walking in.

“Um, hey,” he says, looking a bit uncertain and definitely out of place in his pressed khakis and red collared polo shirt when Jason turns, the swear words he was flinging at Roy falling silent. “You really weren’t kidding, were you?”

“Fuck,” Jason says, wanting to bang his head against the bar. “No, I wasn’t.” He takes a glance at Roy, who’s fallen suspiciously silent. His mouth is hanging open.

Kori shakes her head at the two of them. “Hopeless,” she says. “I’m Kori.” She holds her hand out to Tim, who shakes it firmly.

“Tim,” he replies.

“The nimrod behind the bar is Roy. He’s my fiancé. Please don’t judge, he’s actually very smart.” The look Kori shoots Roy makes him straighten up and close his mouth.

Tim laughs. “No judging here. Hey, is that a shirt for…” He rattles off the name of the band for the shirt Roy is wearing. “I love their music. The guitar riffs are incredible.”

Jason wants to laugh, the look on Roy’s face is just too much. He’s obviously recognized Tim.

“Yeah,” Roy agrees, staring at Tim in open amazement. Snapping out his daze, he turns on Jason. “Jaybird, if you fuck this up, Kori and I are going to adopt him.” Looking back at Tim, he says, “Jesus Christ, you’re about the last person I’d expect to like indie garage bands.”

Tim shrugs easily. “I love music, the edgier the better. I just never get to go to concerts.”

“Fucking shame,” Roy says. “Seriously, you ever want to go, come see me. Kori’ll doll you up so that no one even recognizes you. Though Jay’s a fair hand with the mascara and eyeliner too.”

The look Tim gives Jason makes him realize exactly what they’ll be talking about over lunch besides the book. “I told you I was a punk.”

“I heard something about piercings too, but I only see a couple in your ears and the industrial.”

“I let most of them close up a few years ago.”

Kori shook her head in mock sadness. “It was a horrible day when Jason decided to grow up and took out his tongue piercing.”

“And his eyebrow piercing,” Roy chimes in.

“And his nose ring.”

“Fuck you both. I try to run a respectable business here. No one ever took me seriously until I ditched the jewelry.” It was true too. After Mike died, Jason had a ton of responsibility land on his shoulders and quickly learned people listened to him more if he looked like an adult instead of a punk. It helped keep the clientele of the bar happy too, seeing him act more responsibly.

The look on Tim’s face is precious when Jason finally glances over at him. He’s got a mix of awe and curiosity battling it out and he’s staring at Jason intently, like he’s trying to spot where the piercings were. _It’s time to go_.

“Ready to go, Timmy?”

Tim snaps out of it. “Yeah,” he says with a start. “Let’s go.” He nods at Kori and Roy. “It was nice to meet you both.”

“Likewise,” said Roy with a mock salute while Kori smiles brightly. “You too, Tim. Be sure to come back when we’re here sometime. We’ve got all kinds of wonderful stories to share about Jason.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jason says quickly, taking hold of Tim by the shoulder and guiding him out the door. “You’re both bad influences!” he shouts over his shoulder and slams the door shut.

Tim is laughing as Jason glares at the door. In the bright sunlight, a rarity for Gotham to be sure, but welcome all the same, he notices the paint on the metal door is peeling. “My job is never done,” he says as he pulls out his sunglasses.

“Never go out the front?” Tim asks as he walks towards a smart looking silver car.

Jason stops in his tracks and stares at the Audi RS7 parked in front of his bar. “Holy fuck, Tim, is this what you park in front of my bar when you come here at night? You do realize you’re in the fucking Bowery, right?” He may not give a shit about most sports games, but he knows his cars. He’s jacked enough tires and hotwired enough cars in his misspent youth to know quality when he sees it.

Tim looks mildly offended as he turns off the alarm on the car and unlocks the doors. “Just that first night,” he says as he gets in, Jason scrambling in through the passenger door. “I drive my Honda the other nights.”

“A Honda what?” Jason asks as he takes in the sleek interior, surreptitiously running his hands over the smooth black leather. The passenger seat is already back as far as it goes, so he’s not knocking his knees on the dash. He adjusts the back slightly so he doesn’t feel like he’s being pushed forward.

“A four door Civic.” Tim starts the car and expertly shifts it from first to second gear in no time flat as the car smoothly picks up speed.

Jason’s mouth waters at the sight of the manual transmission. He can just feel the thrum and purr of the powerful engine as Tim makes some quick turns. “Okay, fine. I’ll stop giving you shit then. But I’ve got one very important question to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

“Who’s cock do I need to suck so I can drive this thing?”

Tim almost swerves off the road. He glares at Jason before replying with a sharp grin. “Mine.”

***** 

Lunch is at a low-key dim sum restaurant in Coventry. All the servers seem to recognize Tim, but they don’t treat him any different than they do the other people eating a late lunch.

They talk about the book, Tim taking it out and reading passages he’d marked with bright sticky notes. They argue vehemently over who wrote what, neither one giving up their position. It’s one of the best afternoons Jason can remember.

Cradling a small cup of jasmine scented tea in his large hand, Jason watches Tim animatedly talk about a video game he’s playing in his spare time. _He talks with his hands when he’s excited about something._

He can’t contribute much to this particular conversation as he’s never owned a game system before. Tim’s eyes widen in shock at that admission. “Seriously? Even as a kid?”

Jason feels his face grow stony at the comment. _He doesn’t know. He wouldn’t have said it if he did._ “My dad ran out on my mom and me when I was barely four years old. Mom died when I was 10. I was in and out of foster care for the next couple years before deciding I could do a better job of raising me than some drunk-ass child molester. I was on the streets by the time I turned 12. So no, I’ve never had a game system in my life.”

The blood rushes from Tim’s face as he realizes the giant hole he just stepped in. “I’m sorry, Jay. I shouldn’t have said that…”

Jason shrugs and takes a sip of tea. “You didn’t know.”

Tim opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to decide what to say next. “Um…is that why you don’t have a smartphone?”

A loud bark of laughter escapes Jason. “Fuck, you’re hilarious you know that? Yeah, it is. Never grew up with all the cool toys, never bothered to learn how to use them as an adult even though I’ve got the money for ‘em now.”

“Would you…like to? I can show you.”

Jason almost says no, but the earnest look on Tim’s face stops him from shutting him down immediately. _Christ, he’s trying. I guess…I guess I can step up to the plate too._ “Sure, but how the hell are we going to arrange that? We work completely opposite schedules.”

It’s the first time either of them have brought up their jobs, though Jason’s been dying to ask Tim what’s happened since the last time he saw him.

Tim looks thoughtful for a moment. “How about I bring a system over some Saturday night? I’m used to pulling all-nighters. We can play for a few hours, then you can crash before having to open the bar the next day. You open at noon on Sundays, right?”

Jason finds himself nodding along. “Yeah, Roy does actually. He and Stephanie run things til about 4, then Kori and I come in for the evening rush. I close it down.”

“I can come over late and help you close,” Tim says excitedly. “Do you live far?”

“The top floor of the building is my loft.” Jason enjoys the look on Tim’s face.

“That’s awesome! Do you want to play there? Or on one of the TVs in the bar? I can hook up the system to whichever TV you want.”

“I’ve got a good one in the loft. Splurged last year.”

Tim’s almost bouncing up and down in his chair with excitement. _I wonder how he’ll look doing that on my cock?_ Jason has no doubts now that they’ll get there eventually. “If you don’t mind me invading your space, I can come a bit early then to set things up. When do you want to do it?”

_If he knew what the hell I’m thinking about, he’d be beet red at saying that. Fuck, I wonder if he’s ever slept with a guy before._

“Any Saturday night will do. There’re some big games tomorrow night, but they should be over by 11. If it dies down like it usually does, I can even close an hour early. I’m only open until 2 on Friday and Saturday nights. Or is that too soon?”

Tim pulls his phone out and opens what Jason assumes is his calendar. Someone like him, of course he’s going to be booked on the weekend. Jason can just see his name in Tim’s appointment list. _Lunch, Jason Todd, 1pm Friday_.

“Dammit,” he says with a frown. “I’ve got brunch I have to be at Sunday morning at 10. What the hell is this?” He starts typing furiously on the phone.

Jason sips his tea calmly, but is secretly relieved. _I don’t want to go too fast here. He’s got a lot of shit going on._

Whatever it is Tim sees on his phone makes him scowl. “You know, in a weird way, I can’t wait until Damian turns 18. Then he gets to be the public face of Wayne Enterprises. I’d like to see him learn how to charm investors and the media and handle all the old biddies who rule the ballrooms.”

“I take it you can’t get out it?”

“No.” There’s an honest to God pout on Tim’s face. “But I told Tam under no circumstances is she to put anything on my calendar for next weekend.”

It takes Jason a moment to remember that Tam is Tim’s executive assistant. Tam Fox, one of the daughters of Lucius Fox, the CFO of WE. Jason’s learned more about the internal workings of Gotham’s largest company in the last month than he ever expected to in a lifetime. “That’s fine,” he says. “I’ve got the same shit going on next weekend as I do this one.”

Tim cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowing a bit at the comment. “What do you mean by that? I know you’ve said you’re not much into sports…”

 _What did I mean by that?_ The comment puzzles Jason too as he thinks it out. “I think it’s because I’m getting a bit bored. Same old, same old, ya know? I shouldn’t complain, this is the best time of year for me at the bar because of football season and the World Series coming up. Things die down after the Super Bowl for a while, then picks up with March Madness. Summer sucks ass unless the NBA finals are good.”

“So it’s cyclical?” Jason looks up from his tea, realizing that he’s talking to someone who understands his work from a purely business sense rather than the numbers side of things.

“Yeah, it is. There’s days during the summer I don’t even bother opening the bar. The costs to open far outweigh any possible money I may bring in. Some weeks in July and August I’m only open Thursday through Sunday, and even then Thursday and Fridays are just for the evening.”

Tim’s nodding. He gets it. “Is that why you change up your menu so often? To alleviate the boredom?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

Tim leans forward, reaching across the table to grab Jason’s hands. He’s got a firm grip for someone so slender. The look on his face is serious. “Just don’t get rid of the pickles,” he says emphatically.

Jason cracks up laughing, squeezing Tim’s hands tightly as he does. “I won’t. Roy’s threatened to quit if I ever do.”

“Good.”

They finish up lunch, Tim grabbing the bill before Jason can ever offer. “You didn’t charge me for anything the other night, so lunch is on me,” he says when Jason tries to take out his wallet.

“Fair enough,” he replies, settling back to finish his tea. Tim barely touched his, going instead for a large glass of water. _The way he’s bouncing around, he probably slammed an energy drink before picking me up. Or snorted some coke, but I can’t see him doing something like that._

As they get in Tim’s car, Jason looks longingly at the wheel, making sure Tim can see it. The young executive smirks as he puts the car in reverse to pull out of the small parking space. “You’re not sucking my cock while I’m driving.”

Jason plays along. _Let’s see how far you’ll go with this_. “Why not? That’s what red lights are for.”

Tim slides the stick shift from reverse to first as his feet tap the pedals below. He doesn’t react, but Jason can see the red in his ears. “Considering the size of your shoulders, you wouldn’t fit across the center console, let alone the stick shift.”

“So park somewhere. You’ve got a backseat. Ever have anyone back there before?”

Jason lurches forward against the seatbelt as Tim slams the breaks hard to avoid hitting the car in front of them. He’s blushing hard now. “What the hell?” he asks. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

Smirking, Jason sits back in the passenger seat and relaxes, closing his eyes. “I win,” he says.

Tim splutters as the light turns green and the cars start moving around them. “You are something else,” he replies as he starts driving again.

“Just don’t play gay chicken with me. I’ll always win.”

The other man’s quiet for a few moments. “Are you?” he asks. “Gay, that is?”

Jason cracks his eyes open a bit to peek at Tim from behind his sunglasses. The man’s got a death grip on the steering wheel. “I’m equal opportunity,” he replies. “On the spectrum, I fall somewhere between bi and pansexual. I definitely identify as male, but in terms of sexual partners, gender and gender identity doesn’t phase me.”

Tim’s grip on the wheel loosens. “That’s actually kind of interesting,” he says. “I’ve never really thought in terms like that before.”

Jason chuckles. “I take it you just gave yourself a homework assignment for the weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“So what are you?” Through his slitted eyes, Jason sees Tim start in surprise. “I can’t quite pin you down.”

Tim glances over at the bar owner and turns his attention back to the road. “I’m curious as to what you think I am before I tell you.”

Jason shifts, making it obvious he’s looking at Tim closely now. “The confusion comes because of how the media portrays all of you damn Waynes versus how you act in front of me. My guess is closeted gay.”

“That’s pretty close,” Tim says quietly, hands tightening on the wheel a moment, then relaxing again. “Closeted bi, though I haven’t actually had sex with a man before. Yet another reason I can’t wait until Damian turns 18. Then it won’t matter who I’m sleeping with.” The last part is said fiercely and Jason catches the glance in his direction.

He stretches in the seat, making sure to arch his back a bit and push his legs against the fabric of his jeans. _I’m sexy and I know it_. The verse from the song plays in Jason’s head for a moment. He looks over at Tim with his cocky, shit-eating grin. “Unless I’m totally misreading you, I’ll gladly take your man v-card any day of the week.”

The sexy smirk Tim gives Jason in return surprises him, having expected another stuttering blush and a slam of the brakes. “God, I hope so,” he says, smoothly shifting gears and flying through the early afternoon traffic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your wonderful comments! I'm truly blown away by the response to this story!


	4. Interruptions

Chapter 4 - Interruptions

The weekend flies by, much like Jason thought it would, between the baseball playoffs, college football on Saturday, and the NFL games on Sunday. Kori and Stephanie are both pleased with their tips, and Jason crows yet again over the new payment system he invested in earlier in the year.

Of course, Roy and Kori have filled Steph in on the new person in Jason’s life, though they did somehow keep his last name from her.

“Oh my God, Jay, seriously? You have a boyfriend! About time you got laid!” The bubbly blond college student leans on the bar Saturday evening before heading out to her other part-time job. The girl works her ass off on the weekend to make sure she doesn’t have to during the week so she can focus on classes. Jason admires her work ethic, though he’d never tell her that.

“Say that a bit louder,” he grumbles. “I don’t think they heard you across town.” He’s never hid his sexual preferences before, but that doesn’t mean he likes hearing it shouted loudly across the room.

“Sorry!” Steph says. “It’s just, I’ve known you for two years now and you’ve never once gone on a date. And your occasional threesomes with Roy and Kori don’t count.”

“Hey, they’re the ones who invite me,” Jason says defensively. “And who in their right minds would say no to the chance to touch Kori’s boobs? They’re amazing.”

Steph glances down at her breasts at that comment, which means Jason does too. She’s wearing one of her usual purple scoop neck shirts. In the summer, she’ll wear tank tops. “And before you even say anything, your boobs are pretty sweet lookin’ too. ”

The glare Steph sends him is supposed to be withering if the scowl on her face is anything to go by. “Says the man with the boyfriend. Wonder what he’ll think the next time he catches you staring.”

“He’ll be staring right along with me. He’s bi.”

Steph throws her rag at him. “Will I get a chance to meet him?”

Jason shrugs, easily catching the rag and throwing it back at her. “Hard to say. He works during the week and is off on the weekends. Whereas I work all weekend.” He kept his mouth shut about Tuesday nights. Those were starting to become _sacred_.

“Kori said he comes in almost every Tuesday night,” Steph retorts.

 _Dammit Kori!_ “Fine. Yes, he’s here almost every Tuesday. It’s practically the only night of the week I get to see him, so don’t start making it a fucking habit of showing up.”

The grin Steph gives him is blinding. “Just once, I promise. Kori and Roy got to meet him, so I do too. I’ll keep it short, you know I have early classes.”

 _I can’t win. All my employees are assholes who conspire against me._ “Fine, do what you fucking want. If you show up, I’m gonna make you work.”

“More tips in my pocket, assuming there’s anyone here besides you and him. Oh, have you done the nasty against the bar yet?” She’s half serious, half teasing as she throws the rag back at Jason.

“No, now get the fuck outta here or you’re going to be late to your other job.”

Stephanie’s laughter drowns out all of Jason’s grumbling as she walks out the door.

From down the way, a man signals Jason’s attention. Walking over, slinging the rag over his shoulder in the process, Jason takes in the good-looking man. Black hair, blue eyes, just like him and Tim, amazing cheekbones. He’s got an easy grin, but unless Jason’s completely mistaken, the man screams ‘cop’. “Need a top off?” Jason asks, gesturing to the man’s half empty beer.

“No, I’m good,” he replies. “Heard from someone that there’s some pretty wicked fried pickles here. Kitchen still open?”

“Until 10,” Jason replies easily. “Single or double?”

“Double.”

“Be right back.” Jason takes a look around the room to spot Kori over by the pool table working her charm then heads back to the kitchen. _Why the hell do I have a cop sitting at my bar? Last I heard, the Bowery cops still favor Pete’s._

The order only takes a couple minutes to cook and put together, so Jason comes back out pretty quickly. “Order up,” he jokes, setting the plate down in front of the man. “Careful, they’re hot.”

The cop picks up a chip, blows on it, dunks it generously in the aioli, and shoves it in his mouth. Jason can’t help the smirk on his face as the man makes a face at the hot pickle. “I warned you,” he says.

“Yeah, yuh thid,” the man lisps, taking a sip of beer to cool off his mouth. “My little brother tells me I never listen to warnings.”

“Kind of odd, considering your profession.” Jason can’t help it, he has to dig.

“My profession? How can you tell?” A curious look appears on the man’s handsome face.

“Some people have gay-dar, you could say I have the same but for cops.”

“Huh,” the man says intelligently. “I suppose cop-dar just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

Jason snorts a laugh. “You’re comedian,” he says and walks away, another person having waved to get his attention.

He’s busy for the next half hour, running back to the kitchen a few times, and pouring drinks for his patrons. The cop sits quietly and watches the game in front of him, but Jason can feel his eyes on him, watching closely. He feels like he’s being judged and has no clue as to why or what he did.

The next time Jason comes back up front from the kitchen, the cop is gone, a $20 sitting under his empty glass. His pickle plate is wiped clean.

He’s met odder characters before, Tim being at the top of the list currently, so he puts it out of his mind to focus on his work. But he doesn’t forget.

*****

On Tuesday night, Jason’s curious as to whether Tim will show or not since they’ll be seeing each other on Saturday. _I’m an adult; I can wait a week to see my…whatever the hell Tim is._

It’s earlier than usual when Tim arrives. Jason catches sight of him sitting down while he’s at the other end of the bar getting beers for the three men in front of him. There’s movement on the other side of him too as someone else settles in. _The hell? Did he bring someone with?_ Finishing up, he heads over.

Sure enough, there is. Tim’s taken off his expensive jacket like always and is helping a young black woman out of her equally expensive jacket. She sees Jason approaching and gives him an appraising look while whispering something to Tim. He looks up and his face lights up. “Jay!” he says with a grin.

“Tim,” he says and forces a charming smile on his face for the woman. “You brought company for once.”

The look on Tim’s face makes him laugh as it’s clear he’s not entirely pleased by it. _Someone talked him into it_. “Yeah,” he says. “Jason, meet Tam. Tam, Jason.”

 _Ah, this is the assistant. Dammit, what the hell am I doing again?_ “Nice to meet ‘cha,” Jason says, holding out his hand.

“Likewise,” Tam replies in a smoky voice that Jason instantly adores and shakes his hand in a firm grip. _Now here’s a woman who knows how to shake a hand_. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you recently and decided I had to meet you. Sorry for invading your Tuesday nights, I know it’s your thing.” She shoots a wry smile at Tim.

“I told her not to make it a regular thing,” he replies, shooting a cautious glance at Jason like he’s not sure how he’ll react.

“Well that makes two of us as my other waitress may pop in tonight to meet you. Roy and Kori gave her an earful.”

Tim’s mouth widens in an ‘O’. “How much of an earful?”

Jason instantly knew what he meant. “They didn’t drop your last name, but knowing Steph, she’s going to recognize you. She likes the gossip rags.”

Tam pats Tim lightly on the shoulder as he groans softly in consternation. “It’s the risk you take anytime you meet someone new, hon. You know that.”

Tim scowls. “Yes, but there’s so much at stake right now.”

 _This I want to hear_. “If she shows, I’ll make sure she keeps a gag in it. If anything, I can threaten to cut her hours.”

“That’s not very nice, Jay.” The scolding look on Tim’s face makes Jason want to laugh. It’s like he’s reprimanding a puppy.

“I’m an asshole, remember? Now Tam, what can I get for you? Rich boy here likes jack and coke.”

Tam snorts in amusement. “Since when? It’s usually red bull and vodka.”

Tim pulls a face at her. “Since I became a regular at a _bar_.”

Jason and Tam both laugh loudly at Tim. He watches how her dark brown eyes dance in amusement as she looks fondly at her employer. _Yeah, I like her. And she’s 100% loyal to Tim, I can see it._ “Why am I not surprised you have an addiction to energy drinks?”

“And coffee,” Tam chimes in. “He’s usually had three cups before he even walks into the office in the morning and he’s carrying a fourth.”

“Hey, is this pick on Tim night?” Tim asks.

“Yes,” they chorus.

“Where else do I get to tell all the fun stories about you, Tim? I’m sure Jason’ll love hearing how you regularly fall asleep at your desk and drooling on paperwork.” Tam turns her attention back to Jason. “I’ll have a vodka cranberry and don’t you dare give me the crap vodka.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jason gives a mock salute and gets to work mixing drinks.

“And pickles when you have a chance!” Tim says, leaning forward on the bar in excitement. “Tam, you’re going to _love them!_ ”

Jason gets their drinks and heads to the back to get the order going. When he’s back, there’re a few more people who’ve just arrived, so he’s busy for a little bit getting them settled. It’s usually not until about 8 or 9 that things quiet down to a near standstill. He chats with Tim and Tam when he can, but they get that he’s got a business to run.

When he gets a chance to check back on them, they’ve moved from their seats and taken up a spot by the pool table. Tim’s racking up the balls for a game while Tam’s testing out the different pool cues. It’s a sight to behold, two young and very well dressed professionals shooting pool in his neighborhood bar. _It works though. They’re laughing and having fun, just like everyone else in here._

It quickly becomes apparent that Tam is just as good as Tim, even in the killer heels she’s rocking. _She could take someone’s eye out with those things._ Walking over, Jason sets down the water he knows Tim will drink now that he’s done with his jack and coke. Tam’s still sipping her drink, as well as a water she asked for earlier. “How’re we doing over here?”

“Getting my ass handed to me.”

“Kicking Tim’s ass.”

Chuckling, Jason leans against the pool table and crosses his arms as Tim goes for the water. “In those shoes, you look like you should be kicking ass and taking names.”

Tam smiles broadly. “It’s what I do everyday. In our world, it’s hard to be a woman sometimes. You don’t get taken seriously unless you play the men’s games. I may dress the part, but my shoes are all _me_.” She emphasizes her words by sending a solid orange ball into the opposite corner pocket with a loud crack.

Jason opens his mouth to say something when he’s interrupted by a loud “I’m here!” coming from the front door. Stephanie’s made it.

She quickly spots Jason and heads over, blonde hair shining brightly despite the low lighting in the bar and rocking a pair of dark skinny skins and cowboy boots with her normal purple t-shirt. He refuses to call it eggplant.

Turning to Tim and Tam, he says, “Hurricane Stephanie has arrived.”

“Hi!” she says cheerfully, holding out her hand to Tam first. “I’m Stephanie. Call me Steph, everyone else does.” Tam smiles politely, with bare hint of her teeth showing as she does.

Not picking up on the vibe, Steph turns to Tim. “Hello! It’s nice to meet you…” her voice trails off as she takes in Tim, her hand dropping in surprise as her eyes widen in shock.

“Hello,” says Tim, ever polite, but wearing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. That’s the smile Jason’s seen on TV or in the papers. _I don’t like that smile. There’s something very off about it._

Steph closes her mouth, then opens it, then closes it again, looking very much like a fish. Jason’s known her long enough to know what’s coming, so when she opens it again, he slams a hand over her mouth to muffle her excited scream. “Don’t you even _DARE_ say it,” he whispers harshly in her ear. “In here, he’s a _normal person_ , got it?”

She bobs her head quickly in agreement, then bites Jason’s fingers when he doesn’t pull them away fast enough. “Oh my god,” Steph says in a much quieter tone. “I am so sorry,” she apologizes to Tim. “I’m not normally like this, I swear. Well, I kinda am as I get excited easily, but I’m not dumb. Holy shit, now I’m babbling.” Her mouth closes with a snap.

Tim looks over at Tam, then Jason in amusement. The sparkle is back in his light blue eyes. “As long as you don’t go screaming my name, we’re fine. In here, I’m just Tim.”

Steph nods, then holds out her hand again, which Tim takes and shakes. “Steph.”

Disaster averted, Jason checks back at the bar and sees that he’s needed. “Play nice, everyone,” he admonishes, giving Steph another warning look as he walks away.

He catches glimpses of them as he works, Stephanie taking on Tam at the pool table even though Jason knows she sucks horribly at the game. Tim sits on a stool and watches, but Jason feels his eyes on him more often than not.

It’s almost 9 by the time the bar empties out, leaving just the four of them. After the last man leaves, Jason goes to the front door and locks it, turning off the lights in the front window too. Turning around, he sees Steph behind the bar mixing another vodka cranberry. She likes the drink too, so he’s not sure if it’s for her or for Tam until he sees she’s using the good vodka. She’d never use it if it were for her as she swears she likes the cheap stuff better.

“Okay,” she says as she takes the drink to Tam, carefully setting it on a fresh napkin. “My one waitress job of the night is done. What’re we playing next?”

“I’m out of quarters,” Tam says. “Think we can convince Jason to change a five for me?”

Jason reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys. “Pool or darts?”

“Darts!” Tim says excitedly. He’s lost some of the reserve he initially had around Stephanie. Jason’s not surprised, she has a way with people.

Tam eyes the dartboard warily. “I’ve never played those before.” She places a hand on her hip and cocks it to the side slightly, staring down the board like it’s a new challenge to be conquered.

“I’ll show you!” Steph says. “It actually helps that you’re in heels too. _LOVE_ those shoes by the way.”

The four of them play for a good hour, laughing and having fun. Jason pours each of them a shot of the good vodka so he can empty the bottle. Steph makes a face as she drinks it with Tam telling her to suck it up. The black haired woman and the blonde hit it off really well, which Jason can see makes Tim happy.

“She doesn’t have a lot of friends,” he confides as Steph and Tam play one last game of darts. Tim’s sitting back at the bar while Jason’s collecting glasses. “I love seeing her like this.”

“Yeah? I take it she gets out as much as you."

Tim snorts. “Just about. It’s not uncommon for her to be my date for events I need to bring a plus one for. It’s…easier than dealing with someone new.”

“I bet. But how does she feel about that?” Jason collects all the glasses onto a tray and gestures for Tim to follow him back into the kitchen. He’s made periodic trips back all night, so these are the last of them.

“She says she’s okay with it,” Tim says slowly, then grins impishly up at Jason. “When I told her about you, she told me she’d help you get acclimated to society events so that she could go back to being on the shelf.”

Jason laughs because he knows he’s supposed to, but inside, he’s freaking out. _Fuck, that is something I’d be expected to do as Tim Drake-Wayne’s boyfriend, isn’t it? Goddammit._

He sets the glasses carefully in the sink full of hot water and starts washing them, purposefully not saying anything to Tim.

But Tim must have seen something as Jason suddenly feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist carefully, strong and slender arms holding him tightly as Tim hugs him from behind. He feels Tim rest his chin on his shoulder, realizing he must be up on his toes a bit to manage that.

“I know we haven’t really spoken about where this is going, but…I really like you, Jason. I want to see what happens next, if you just give me a chance. I’m going to do my best to keep you out of the media and away from high society,” he says softly. “But I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep it up forever. Someone’s going to find out eventually. All I ask, please, is that you be patient. With what Tam and I have in the works, it’ll all turn out okay.”

Jason shudders at Tim’s words and drops the glass he’s holding back into the water with a _plop_. He twists to turn around, Tim’s grip loosening as he does, so that he’s face to face with the shorter man. Tim stares back at him, blue eyes gleaming in the light. He’s taken his glasses off at some point and this close, Jason can see hints of gray in his eyes.

Raising a hand to cup Tim’s face gently, Jason leans in. “I was going to wait til Saturday to do this, but…”

Tim meets him halfway.

The kiss is gentle at first, a soft glide of lips that slowly firm into something harder as both men desire more. Tim is more adept than Jason expects, unexpectedly nipping at Jason, causing him part his lips so that Tim can slide in with a questing tongue, teasing him as he pulls back, then darts in again. He feels Tim slide a hand into his hair, running it through his fingers and grabbing hold as he pulls Jason in closer.

_Holy hell, where on earth did this Tim come from? I’ve seen hints, but damn!_

Jason wraps his other arm tightly around Tim and surges forward, pushing the other man backwards until his back hits the metal counter behind him. Tim gasps in response, Jason seizing the opportunity to take the lead. His hands slide down Tim’s sides until they settle on either side of his slender hips. Digging into the expensive fabric of his pants and the skin beneath, Jason easily lifts Tim so that he’s seated on the counter. Tim gasps again and stretches up to wrap both arms tightly around Jason’s neck to pull him down, somehow taking control of the kiss a second time.

Jason lets him, maneuvering a muscled thigh between Tim’s knees, getting him to part them so he can take that final step of closing the gap between them. He wraps an arm tightly around Tim, holding him close. Tim’s got a death grip in his hair.

Abruptly, the kitchen door slams open, Steph and Tam marching in, only to halt quickly at the sight of their bosses.

Tim’s facing away from the door, but he still stiffens at the intrusion. Jason’s not so prudish. “Do you _mind?_ ” he all but growls. “It’s called knocking. Try it next time.”

“Damn, but that’s hot,” Tam breaths out in her smoky voice.

Steph nods her head vigorously and grins. “Do you two want a picture? Ya know, for posterity?”

“OUT!” Tim roars.

Giggling loudly, the two women retreat.

Tim sighs and wraps his arms loosely around Jason’s neck. “I am going to get so much crap about this later.”

“So what? You can always ask her what she thinks of Stephanie. I caught her taking a few too many looks at her tits earlier.” Jason holds Tim close, breathing in the scent of his hair.

“Really?” Jason knew if he looked down at Tim, he’d see a fiendishly evil smile on the man’s face. “I will certainly be keeping that in mind. I may need to get Steph’s phone number from you as a possible bribe.”

“Assuming they aren’t already besties.”

“Tam’s not that easy a nut to crack.”

They chuckle lightly then pull apart, Tim sliding off the counter. “To be continued?” Jason asks.

Tim takes a step forward and wraps a strong hand around Jason’s neck, pulling him down into a quick and hard kiss. “With interest,” he says.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter. I really do. Might not seem like it, but there is actual plot advancement going on too. 
> 
> With the weekend coming up, I can't promise regular updates as the bulk of the hours from my full time job are over the next few days. So I may have to place a pause on my personal challenge while I spend the next few days sleeping/working (the joys of 12 hour shifts). I will post at least one more chapter this weekend though.
> 
> Thank you again for all the wonderful comments!


	5. Game Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change...for those who follow the comments, you'll know this story is a challenge to myself, so I decided to take that challenge one step further.
> 
> I also blame Tim entirely.

Chapter 5 - Game Night

Around 10 on Saturday night, Jason starts looking at his watch more frequently, getting to the point where Kori calls him on it.

“I know you’re nervous/excited about your date later, but try to focus, Jason,” she chides. “This is the fifth order you’ve screwed up in the last hour.”

“Fuck, I know. I don’t need to be reminded,” Jason says as he remakes a rum and coke from the whiskey and coke he’d originally made.

“Tim will be here soon, I take it?” she asks gently. For such a tall woman, her voice is surprisingly light. Though Jason knows from experience she can yell and scream with the best of them.

“Another hour, at least.” He sets the remade drink on the counter.

“I think I will stay until you close then,” Kori says as she sets the drink on her tray. “Keep you from burning the place down.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jason says. “I know you’ve had a long week.”

“I am your friend,” she reminds him. “It’s what friends do. Besides, with the extra tips, I can buy that necklace I saw the other day.” Kori’s taste in clothes may run to the simple side when she’s not at the bar, but she loves jewelry, the chunkier the better. Steph and her could talk accessories for hours. Jason knows this for a fact; he and Roy timed them once. “I can also close the bar for you if you want to cut out early, perhaps take a shower before your date officially starts so that you don’t smell like stale beer.”

“Have I told you that you’re my favorite and that you’re a goddess amongst mortals recently? Cuz you totally are.” _I may just take her up on that. See what the night brings first. I don’t like leaving her down here by herself when we’re open._

“No, but thank you,” Kori says with a smile. “It’s nice to be reminded.”

Jason watches her sashay away, strutting her stuff like she’s still on a catwalk. He’d run the numbers earlier, she’s done very well tonight in tips. He glances up at the screen above him. The baseball game is almost over, so he knows it won’t be busy for too much longer.

He’d gotten the occasional text message from Tim that week, but otherwise hadn’t spoken to him since he and Tam left on Tuesday. _Christ, I’m mooning over him like a lovesick teenager. Get a hold of yourself, Todd. It’s not like you haven’t kissed another person before. But damn, where the hell did he learn to kiss like that? Here I thought I’d have to coach him along, but he’s got that part down. Wonder what else he’s got up his sleeves?_

The thought is appealing and Jason entertains himself easily for the next hour while Kori supervises any drink he has to make that involves soda to keep him from screwing up more.

The game ends and people start leaving the bar slowly. It’s half past 11 when Tim arrives. Jason almost doesn’t recognize him, but he’d know those glasses anywhere.

“Wow, did you take some fashion tips from Roy or something?” Jason asks, leaning on the bar with his arms folded across his faded camouflage green shirt.

Tim’s hair is pulled back in a messy half tail like he sported a couple weeks ago, but he’s wearing ripped jeans, not those designer jeans with the holes already ripped into them, but honest to god, knees torn out, faded jeans that look worn and soft like only well loved denim can get. His t-shirt is some band shirt that Jason’s never heard of and he’s wearing an oversized dark gray hoodie. Jason can’t quite see from his angle, but he’d bet even money Tim’s sporting a pair of Converse sneakers.

“No,” Tim laughs as he takes a seat and sets down a backpack Jason didn’t see. “I do know how to dress normal. I was a college student not that long ago.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Jason says. “You want a drink before I show you upstairs? Kori’s still here, I can take a few minutes.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tim says. “What do you want to do for food later? I can get set up, then go grab something when I’m done.”

“I’m easy,” Jason replies, turning and grabbing the whiskey. _Finally, not screwing up something so simple._

“Pizza?”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Jason sets the drink on the bar in front of Tim. “There’s a place two blocks over that’s open til 2 that makes an amazing thin crust.”

Tim takes a sip from his drink and pulls his phone from one of the wide pockets in the hoodie. A few taps later… “Nanetti’s?”

“That’s the one.”

Kori walks up and gives Tim a bright smile. “Hello Tim! It’s about time you got here, Jason’s been a mess all night.”

“Kori!”

Tim smiles back. “Hey Kori, nice to see you again. A mess you say?” He glances at Jason, with a sly tilt to his head.

“Yes, a mess,” she confirms. “Jay, I have a last round for the table in back.”

Jason and Kori work quickly for the next 15 minutes or so. The table in back is the last of the big tables from the earlier games and were the main ones Jason was waiting to see leave before he felt okay leaving Kori for a few minutes. The rest of the people in the bar were Saturday night regulars who knew Kori well enough to know not to fuck with her.

“Come on,” Jason says to Tim when the big table’s gone. He grabs a tray of glasses and heads to the back, Tim following with his backpack. Dumping the glasses in the sink to soak, he takes his keys out and unlocks a door on the other side of the fridge.

“Wow, I’ve been back here a couple times now and never knew that was even there,” Tim comments as they enter the back hallway.

“Yeah, this is the hallway that opens out onto the loading dock for the four businesses in this building.” Jason gestures to the right, but heads to the left. “There’s a private entrance up to the apartments at the end here.” He opens another locked door. “Now we climb.” He gestures to the stairs.

“Businesses on the first floor, then apartments on two and three, right? You’re on four?”

“Right. I’m fully rented too. I make more than enough income from the rents alone that I don’t need to keep the bar open all the time, but why not? I’m not the type to sit around and do nothin’.”

“Neither am I.”

Jason’s rather proud of his building. Mike kept it in good repair, but Jason’s been able to reinvest the money from his rents into making upgrades here too, not just at the bar. New lighting to keep the stairwell and upper hallways well lit at all times, and he also upgraded most of the electrical wiring and installed a new central cooling and heating system throughout the building. That had cost a pretty penny, but it was worth it when the bills plummeted.

Arriving on the top floor, Jason unlocks his door and steps in, holding it open for Tim and closing it behind him. He gives him a moment to look around.

If Jason’s proud of his building, then he’s doubly proud of his loft. He, Roy, and Kori renovated the whole thing themselves, from knocking down walls, replacing windows, remodeling the entire kitchen, laying down new flooring, and painting. The wide-open floor plan has his kitchen and laundry off to the left from the entryway, the central area his living room, and his bedroom space off to the right. The bathroom is the only room that has a door for privacy. He’s not ashamed in the slightest that most of the furniture and fixtures, including the kitchen counters and cabinets, as well as his bathroom, came from Ikea. It’s also clean since he’s rarely there long enough to do anything more than sleep and do laundry.

“I suppose I can’t really say the entire top floor is my loft. It takes up about half of the upper floor. The rest is storage.”

Tim’s looking around, a small smile on his face. “It’s amazing,” he says. “Totally not what I was expecting at all.”

“Oh? And what were you expecting?” Jason’s teasing, but he’s also serious. _I know I have nothing to be ashamed of, but having him here makes me feel like I’m being judged._

“Something darker,” Tim says honestly, setting his backpack down carefully on the sofa. “Not morbid, but darker colors. I like the light wood grains. This city is so damn dark at the best of times, it’s nice to be in a place that’s light and has color, you know?”

Jason nods, understanding completely. “I get it. I’ve got to head back down. There’s a spare key on a hook in the cabinet just to the right of the fridge. Lock up when you go out to get the pizza. Not sure where you parked, but the stairwell entrance comes out between the nail salon and the bookstore.”

“I bet you’re a frequent shopper.”

“You know it. Need anything before I go?”

“Just one thing.” Tim walks towards him and hooks his arms around Jason’s neck, pulling him down into a brief kiss. He chuckles as he pulls back. “Been wanting to do that since I walked into the bar.”

“Me too.” Jason gives him another quick kiss. “And if I don’t go now, I’m not going to be able to.”

“I’ll leave through the bar when I go get the pizza. See you in a bit.”

Jason nods and leaves, heading back down the stairs, taking them two at a time like he usually does.

***** 

It’s a little after midnight by the time the bar empties out. Taking advantage of the timing, Jason locks the door and switches off the lights. Kori’s taking the last of the dirty dishes to the back. Tim had left barely five minutes ago to get the pizza. He knew to go in the other entrance when he returns.

“Dishes or till?” Jason shouts back to Kori.

“Till! I hate doing dishes,” she says, coming out of the kitchen. “That’s all of them too. Unless there’s more behind the bar I missed.”

“Nah, I got those earlier.”

Quickly taking care of their respective chores, Jason loads up the dishwashers and sets them to run. Popping his head into the office, he watches Kori finish counting the cash and sets the electronic system to processing the payments. “You’ll need to go to the bank on Monday,” she says. “There was a lot of cash tonight.”

“Nice.”

Kori locks up the till in the safe and smiles brightly. “You ready for your date?”

“Damn straight I am. I’ll walk you out.”

“Do you think you’ll get laid tonight? You’ve been kind of tense lately.”

If the question came from anyone other than Kori, Jason would have decked them. “Probably not. Tim strikes me as the kind of guy who wants to savor each milestone.”

Kori laughs. “Nothing wrong with that. Enjoy whatever milestone you reach tonight then. Roy and I will want all the details tomorrow.”

“Sorry, but no. Not with him.” _I know they won’t say a word, but there’s still too much of a chance of someone finding out something they shouldn’t._

The look in Kori’s pale green eyes says she understands.

Jason walks her out to her car and waits until she’s driving away from the curb before bolting back into his building and running up the stairs, his long legs able to take them three at a time when he’s got the speed going. At the top of his landing, he pauses to catch his breath. _Goddamn, but I’m glad I quit smoking last year. Would not have been able to do that if I still was._

Unlocking his door, the smell of warm pizza greats him. Tim’s over in the kitchen with what looks like two pizza boxes on the island. “Hungry?” he asks. “I’m starving and when I heard the size of a large pizza when I called the order in, I figured two would be better.”

“That’s fine. You get everything set up?”

“Yup!” Tim replies excitedly. “Working like a dream. That’s nice TV by the way. I’ve been thinking about replacing mine with one of those.”

Jason snorts as he walks over and grabs one of the plates Tim set out. The younger man’s eating directly from the box, though he does have a paper towel in one hand for a napkin. “And how often do you do that, rich boy?”

Tim shoots him a dirty look. “Not as often as you seem to think. My TV’s about five years old.”

“The one I replaced was 15.”

“You win.”

They finish eating and Jason grabs some water bottles from the fridge, laughing at the face Tim makes. Settling down on the sofa, Tim reaches into his backpack and removes an energy drink. He’s ditched his shoes somewhere.

“Knew you had to be addicted to those.” Jason sits next to Tim, close enough to knock knees but not be in his space.

“You want me to stay up all night? I need one of these.” Tim sets the drink on the coffee table and picks up two controllers, handing one of them to Jason. “So we’re going to start you off easy tonight.”

Jason’s already befuddled by the different buttons and switches on the controller. “And what would be easy to play with this thing?”

“ _Mario Party_.”

***** 

They play for the better part of two hours. Tim takes the time to explain how this particular controller works, then starts Jason on some of the easier games. Jason likes how this game lets them play side by side, even though they’re technically competing.

“You did good for a newbie,” Tim praises Jason. He’s given up all pretense of personal space and is slouched completely against Jason, head resting on his shoulder.

“Thanks. I can see how these things can be addicting.”

He feels Tim shrug. “Just like anything, moderation is the key. Although, when a game I really really want to play comes out, I have been known to lock myself in my house and ignore all calls and emails for an entire weekend.”

“Noted.” Not wanting to dislodge Tim, but needing to move, Jason slowly stands up and stretches. He never got the shower he wanted to take earlier and is feeling kind of gross.

Tim watches, not making any pretense otherwise from where he slid into Jason’s spot. “Tired?” he asks.

“Sorta. I want a shower. Was going to take one while you were getting the pizza, but you got back sooner than I thought.”

“Go clean up then. I’ll pack up the system. Unless you want to practice with it while I’m not here?”

Jason thinks about it for a second. “Nah. No offense, but I’ll probably never touch one of these things without you around.”

Tim smiles. “None taken.” He rolls himself off the sofa and onto his feet in a smooth movement. “Go, get clean.” He makes a shooing gesture at Jason, who just laughs as he walks away.

He showers quickly, relishing the feel of the warm water. _I can’t wait until Tim will shower with me._ He imagines licking beads of water from Tim’s slender neck as the younger man arches against the tile with Jason’s cock buried in him, Tim gasping and clutching at Jason’s broad shoulders, nails digging in to the point of pain. _Goddammit, the last thing I need is to walk back out there with a boner. He gets to call the shots tonight and other than those kisses when I first got him alone, he hasn’t made a move other than snuggling. Damn, but I called touch deprived._

Drying off, Jason realizes he forgot to bring clothes into the bathroom with him. Normally, he doesn’t even bother as he’s the only one in the loft. _Fuck it_. _He’ll see me naked soon enough, best give him a taste of what he’s in for_. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door.

Tim is kneeling in front of the TV with his backpack and wrapping the cords from the game system into a neat bundle. He turns at the sound of the door opening. “Hey, do you want to put on a movie…” he trails off at the sight of an almost naked Jason, jaw hanging open slightly.

 _Now there’s a look to feed my ego_. He smirks. “Movie’s fine. I’ve got a DVR full of them, so pick whatever.”

He starts walking towards his dresser and Tim is suddenly _right there_. _Damn he moves fast. Little ninja_. “Are those…” he asks quietly, eyes glued to Jason’s chest.

“Yeah. I didn’t take those out.”

“Can I?” Tim reaches out, then pulls his finger back like he’s expecting it to be slapped away.

“That’s what they’re there for.”

Tim cautiously reaches out again and traces the silver hoop piercing Jason’s nipple, moving quickly to do the same on the other one. He used to sport a larger gauge, but decided to downsize when he took out his facial piercings.

“See something you like?” Jason asks quietly into Tim’s hair. Standing this close, the top of Tim’s head is right against his mouth.

Looking up, Jason’s surprised to see just how dilated Tim’s eyes are behind his glasses. He’s blinking rapidly like he’s coming out of a trance and shakes his head slightly. He takes a slow step back. “Yes. Just…um…How far do you want to go tonight?” Tim asks quickly.

Jason shrugs. “As far as you’re comfortable with. This,” he gestures to himself, “is an accident. I forgot to bring clothes into the bathroom. Never really need to.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Tim agrees, eyes darting down to Jason’s chest again. “Right now, all I want is to touch you. I know I’m not quite ready to go all the way yet, but let’s see where things go?”

“Sounds good to me. Now go put on a movie we can both ignore and I’ll put something on besides a towel.”

“You don’t have to…” Tim’s eyes finally move from Jason’s chest down his chiseled abs and follow the line of hair that disappears into the top of the towel. Jason feels his cock twitch in interest. _There’s no way he missed that._

“Yeah, I think I do. Because if I’m only in this, it’s going to be way too easy to move into other things.”

Tim looks up again, a teasing smile on his lips. “I expect to get off tonight.”

Jason leans down to whisper against Tim’s mouth. “So do I.”

*****

Tim puts on _Fellowship of the Ring_ while Jason slips into a pair of sweatpants and an undershirt. He knows he’s the one who will need to keep in control and extra clothing will help keep Tim’s hands from wandering too much.

 _Yeah fucking right. He’s going to rip this shirt given the chance_.

As Jason takes his seat on the sofa, Tim eyes him warily. Jason raises an eyebrow. “Change your mind?”

“No, but there’s something I need to talk about that I’ve been waiting all week to tell you. It’s easier now that you’re wearing a shirt, so thank you.”

Jason breathes a bit easier. “Is it about work? I’ve been dying to hear what’s going on. You said you and Tam have something in the works?”

Tim flops bonelessly onto the sofa, curling up against the cushioned arm to face Jason. There’s a good gap of space between them. _Shit, this looks serious._

“We do. So, I kinda took your advice and ran with it.”

“Which part? The creative ass-kicking or the start your own business part?”

The smirk that appears on Tim’s face makes Jason suddenly realize why Tim is one of the most promising young business leaders in the world. _God, I would not want to be on the other side of the desk with that look staring back at me. Whoever that’s directed at is SCREWED_.

“Both.”

“Okay. So lay it on me, what you can at least. I’m sure some of this is pretty hush hush.” Jason shifts so that he’s facing Tim now too, back against the opposite arm and legs stretching out. His feet are barely touching Tim’s jeans.

“It all is.” The look on Tim’s face is serious now. “The annoying thing is, it all hinged on what the independent review came back with for the chip. That came back Monday.”

“And?” Jason suddenly realizes why Tim didn’t say anything Tuesday. _Dammit Stephanie_.

“And the fucker is on the fence.” Tim’s hands tighten into fists, then relax as he consciously takes back control. “Which would normally piss me off as he’s trying to play all sides, but in this case, it worked in my favor. Bruce scrapped the project.”

“What!?” Jason sits up in surprise. “He must be fucking insane!”

The smirk is back, along with a wry quirk of Tim’s eyebrows. “I did say it worked in my favor. Tam and I have spent the last two weeks getting my own business off the ground. I filed the paperwork Tuesday morning. Drake Industries is making a comeback.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. He remembers reading in the papers about what happened to Tim’s parents and the subsequent sell-off of their company. “Holy fuck. That’s. That’s incredible.”

Tim looks so proud of himself. “I know. The logistics of everything is mindboggling right now. Going back to the chip though, I was able to get Bruce to sign over the rights to _me_ so I can pursue it on my own. He did it willingly, but it seemed like a consolation prize. Damian was not happy about that when he found out; he knows he sabotaged my project and likely thought he could resurrect it later.”

“Wow. Shit, and here I thought the biggest coup I ever pulled off was when I convinced the bank to give me a loan for some repairs around here. The Bowery isn’t exactly prime real estate.”

“Which is a fucking shame,” Tim says darkly. “So now comes the next part.” He curls up a bit more, almost defensively, though he keeps his level blue gaze on Jason. “I have a business trip I need to make. It’s been in the works for a while, but all the details just got finalized Thursday. I’m kind of glad I’m going, as it’s going to give me a chance to talk to other potential investors for my business. I’m going to need capital to pay for equipment, facilities, research, talent, you name it.”

Jason can see where Tim is going with this. “How long will you be gone?”

“Three weeks.”

He nods slowly. “When do you leave?”

Tim checks his watch. “About five hours. I fly to LA, then from there to Tokyo.”

“That doesn’t leave us a lot of time then. C’mere.” Jason beckons to Tim, watching him uncurl from his side of the sofa. He almost crawls his way up Jason’s long body, settling himself between Jason’s legs and draping himself on his chest.

“You’re not mad?” Tim asks quietly. “I wanted to tell you Tuesday night, but then Stephanie showed up and…”

Jason wraps his arms around Tim and holds him close. “I’m not mad. Kinda knew in the back of my mind you’d have to travel for work at some point. What I’m really wondering is where I fit into all this. I’m just a bartender. You’re going to change the fucking world.”

Tim squirms until he’s able to cup Jason’s face in his hands. “You changed my world. You challenged me to fly in the face of _everything_. And it’s working. It’s wonderful. I feel _free_. And it’s all because of you. You’re always going to fit because you’re so much more than just a bartender. Perhaps it’s time you challenge yourself too.”

 _Perhaps it’s time you challenge yourself too._ The words echo in Jason’s head, resonating with the feelings of dissatisfaction and boredom he’s been feeling. Growing up, he never even thought he would make it this far in life, and yet, here he is being challenged to do more. _I can do more…_

He pushes up slightly to close the gap, capturing Tim’s mouth with his own, sharing all the feelings he’s struggling with in a simple movement. Tim catches him, responding with warmth and opening himself up take Jason in.

Things escalate quickly. Tim works his way down Jason’s neck, lapping and nipping at the sensitive skin. Jason reaches under Tim’s shirt, warm hands kneading the firm muscles of his back. Tim abruptly sits up, straddling Jason, and pulls off his shirt, revealing a surprisingly toned body for someone who sits in an office all day. Jason smirks, reaching out to trace the muscle on Tim’s abs to settle his hands on the man's narrow hips. “You must work out. That doesn’t come from a desk job.”

Tim looks proud of himself. “I do. And I’ll admit to working out a bit more than usual over the past month or so.”

“Just for me?”

“And me. Those t-shirts of yours leave nothing to the imagination, you know. And your thighs…” Tim wriggles a bit to emphasize his point, sending all kinds of signals to Jason’s groin. “Well, let’s just say I felt the need to at least not embarrass myself in front of you when this time finally arrived.”

Jason makes a point grind up against Tim, letting him feel just how hard he already is. “You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about.” He reaches down to grab the hem of his shirt and arches a bit to draw it up and over his head.

Tim stares the same way he did before, but this time with a small smile dancing on his lips. He takes off his glasses and reaches above Jason’s head to set them on the end table. Taking advantage of the position, Jason traces a finger up and around one of Tim’s nipples. He gasps and grabs Jason’s hand as he settles back, pointedly grinding against Jason’s cock.

_So much for being in control here._

Tim moves in closer, his lips dancing across Jason’s collarbone and down to the ring piercing his nipple. He tongues it carefully, testing the movement, before biting down on the ring gently to _pull_. Jason gasps as the combination of pain and pleasure shots through him. _Fuck…_ He grabs Tim’s hips even harder and thrusts up against him. Tim grinds back down and Jason’s finally able to feel of his own cock against his, a few layers of fabric the only thing between them.

Jason reaches between them to fumble with Tim’s belt. Tim makes an impatient sound as he switches nipples, reaching down as well to bat Jason’s large hand away and undo the belt, as well as the button at his waist, before Jason takes his hand to draw it back up to play with the recently abandoned ring. Reaching back down, he carefully slides the zipper down over Tim’s cock, then presses the heel of his hand lightly into the base of it as he cradles Tim’s balls.

Tim rears up with a gasp, moaning as Jason starts working him through his boxers. _Dear god, but he’s gorgeous._

Remembering something rather important, Jason slows his movements and reaches up to cup Tim’s face in a large hand. “Quick question,” he says, knowing he sounds out of breath and loving every moment of it. “You’re clean, right?”

“Yes,” Tim gasps out, licking at Jason’s hand. “You?”

“Yeah.” Jason tightens his grip on Tim’s cock again, watching as the man’s eyes almost roll back into his head at the feeling. He grinds again against Jason.

A few more strokes and Jason shifts a bit, not wanting to let go of Tim, but needing to free his cock as well. Getting the hint, Tim sits up higher on his knees and drags the waistband of Jason’s sweatpants down.

At the sight of Jason’s already weeping cock, Tim moans again as he sees the barbell piercing the tip. “Fuck,” he groans out. He reaches down to touch it, finger tracing the tip of the penis as well. Pulling back, he reaches for the waistband of his boxers and shoves them down, Jason quickly letting go of Tim’s cock at the action.

Tim leans forward across Jason again, arms propped on his broad chest, to capture Jason’s mouth again in a searing kiss. Jason reaches between them and rubs at the moisture beading on the tip of his cock and grips Tim’s cock to milk him a bit as well. _That’ll have to be enough. Damn lube is by the bed._ Tightening his grip, he thrusts against Tim’s cock, holding them both together in his large hand.

Neither last very long. Tim comes with a shout barely a minute later and Jason uses the extra lubrication to get the hard grip he likes before coming with a few more strokes.

Tim collapses on top of Jason, breathing heavy, long strands of black hair falling across his face from where they escaped his hair tie. Jason relaxes, enjoying the feeling of Tim’s weight on top of him. He pulls his hand out from between them and stares idly at the tacky mess on his fingertips.

 _Let’s see if he reacts to this_. Jason raises the hand to his mouth to lick at the pearly liquid.

From his spot on Jason’s chest, Tim follows the movement, shifting his head so that his chin is resting on Jason’s sternum. His pale blue eyes track every movement. “Can I?” he asks.

Not saying a word, Jason brings his hand to Tim’s lips. He laps at one of his fingertips and makes a face at the taste. “That’s weird,” he says with a laugh.

“You get used to it,” Jason replies quietly, reaching down and wiping his hand on his pants. “How much longer before you have to leave?”

Tim looks at his watch. “It’s almost 4. My flight leaves at 8, so about two hours, but I can probably push it to three. It’s the corporate jet to LA and I’m already packed. Just have to stop home and grab my bags.”

“Plenty of time for round two then.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally don't have any piercings besides my ears, but I've always pictured Jason with a few hidden ones that never got taken out. 
> 
> Chapter 6 is written and Chapter 7 is in progress. Almost done!


	6. The Princes of Gotham

Chapter 6 - The Princes of Gotham

Jason decides life _sucks_ with Tim gone.

He’s only known the man for about eight weeks before he left, but it feels like there’s a gaping Tim-shaped hole in his chest now that he’s off traveling the world in the company jet. _And ain’t that a kick in the pants? I don’t even have a passport and he could call up a plane and go have lunch in Paris or some shit like that._

The one thing that keeps him from completely ripping everyone to pieces are the video chats he and Tim have almost every day. With Jason’s odd hours, he can be up by noon in Gotham to catch Tim before he goes to bed in Tokyo. _Or is it Hong Kong now?_

He’s sitting in bed with his laptop open, a cup of tea steaming on the bedside table while Tim tells him about his day. _It takes being half a world apart to be able to talk to each other everyday. I’m glad he showed me how to set this up before he left._

“And then my translator tries telling me that… Jason? You all right?”

“Sorry, just thinkin’.”

On the screen, Tim’s image shifts slightly as he reaches for something on his nightstand. “What about?”

“Well, not sure exactly what day it is where you are, but it’s Tuesday here. Kinda got used to a certain someone showing up and talkin’ about random shit. Last week was boring as hell. I closed at 9.”

“I’ve only been gone a week,” Tim says quietly.

“I know. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got big boy pants to put on.”

Tim laughs. “I would have brought you with me if I thought for a second you’d actually come.”

It’s Jason’s turn to laugh. “I’d love to see how you’d have pulled that off considering I don’t even have a passport.” He sees Tim open his mouth to say something, then closes it.

“Have you ever wanted to travel outside the US?” he asks instead.

“Yes, but I’d settle for getting out of Gotham. The furthest I’ve ever gone are a few train rides up to New York. Went to Metropolis once too.” _God, never been on a fucking plane before either._

Tim makes a thoughtful sound. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where it be?”

“England. I’d love to see _any_ of Shakespeare’s plays done the Royal Shakespeare Company.” Jason’s love of the Bard is already well known to Tim, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise. “I suppose you’ve been all over,” he says, turning the conversation back to Tim.

“For work mostly. I don’t get to play tourist all that often. Although, when I’m in Tokyo, I _insist_ on traditional foods. I love Japanese food.”

“I assume there’s more to it than just raw fish?”

Tim snorts. “Yes,” he says emphatically. “The branch there keeps forgetting I’m fluent in Japanese, so when I heard them talking about what to bring in for lunch one day last week, I asked if we could go to a ramen shop I went to last time I was there. Shocked the hell out of them.”

Jason chuckles. “Okay, so I’m going to assume there’s more to ramen than the dried shit I can buy here for 25 cents.”

“That’s it,” Tim says firmly. “When I’m back, I’m taking you for ramen. There’s a pretty decent shop just outside of Chinatown that does it right.”

“I’m fuckin’ with ya, Drake. The closest I get to traveling the world is trying different restaurants and shops here. Ramen is good, but I like pho better.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.” Tim yawns.

“Time for bed, Timmers.” Jason reaches for his tea and takes a sip.

“I suppose so. Um…before I hang up, can I see them?” He looks embarrassed. _Is that a blush?_

“See what?” _I know damn well what he wants to see, but he’s going to have to ask for it.  
_

Tim squirms. “Your rings,” he finally gets out. “You’re wearing a shirt today."

“It’s been getting a bit cold at night. Time to actually wear some clothes when I go to bed.” _Okay, so that’s a lie, but I was curious to see if he’d say anything._

Jason enjoys seeing Tim’s jaw drop a bit and snap close. “Please take your shirt off,” he almost orders.

“See? Manners. They’re a thing.” Jason sets the laptop carefully on his legs so he can give Tim a show.

The sigh Tim lets out lets him know it’s being appreciated. “You know, I never realized I had a thing for body piercings until I met you.”

“Yeah?” Jason asks, slinging his t-shirt off the side of the big bed.

“Yeah,” Tim says. “Or maybe it’s just piercings on you. I don’t have any desire to pierce anything, even my ears.”

“Hmm, I think I’d have to disagree with that one. I can totally see you rockin’ some nipple piercings.” _Now wouldn’t that be fuckin’ hot?_

Tim’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he’s finally able to speak. “No,” he says firmly. “But I could be persuaded to get a tattoo.”

“Now we’re talkin’!” Jason crows. “Late late teenage rebellion, here you come.”

“Very funny."

“Yeah, I’m hilarious. Well, inventory and a bank run won’t do themselves, so I’ll let you get some sleep.”

Tim tries to hide a yawn. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, talk to you later.”

“Good night.” The screen goes dark as Tim shuts down the chat.

Jason closes the laptop and sets it aside, reaching again for his tea. _Two more weeks. God, I am such a fucking sap._

***** 

Jason sits behind the counter reading a well-worn copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets. The talk with Tim earlier made him feel nostalgic, so these were just icing on the proverbial cake.

The World Series is over, so there’s no one in the bar with him. He looks at his watch and sees it’s almost 9. _Few more minutes and I’m locking up._ Flipping a page, he continues to read.

The sound of a car door slamming out front catches his attention and he looks up at the door in surprise. _What the fuck? No, it can’t be him. He’s on the other side of the world._

The person who enters is still just as surprising.

Tam Fox walks in like she owns the place and sits down on the stool next to Tim’s usual seat. Jason feels his mouth dropping open in surprise. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The young business woman looks impeccable, but Jason’s been around Tim enough to know bone weariness when he sees it, even when the person’s doing their best to hide it. “Getting a drink,” she says. “It’s been a long day.”

“Vodka cranberry with the good shit?”

“No, too sweet right now. What’s on tap?”

Jason’s eyes widen and he rattles off a few names. “The first two are crap, the third one is okay, and the fourth is pretty good.”

“Let’s do the last one then. I like seasonal beers.”

“You got it, boss lady.” Jason steps away to fill a tall glass.

He sets the glass on a napkin in front of Tam. She stares at it a moment, then takes a sip. Jason leans back on the counter behind him and crosses his arms loosely across his chest. “I gotta know. What are you doing here? I thought you were overseas with Tim.”

Taking another sip, Tam eyes Jason carefully. She sets down the glass. “I was supposed to be, originally. But with everything going on, Tim wanted someone he trusts here to keep an eye on things and, how did he say it? _Protect his interests_.” _  
_

“That better be his work interests,” Jason drawls. “Because the last time I checked, I’m not the one with a security detail I’m ditching on a regular basis.”

Tam laughs, dark and smoky. “He gets so much crap for that, you have no idea!”

 _Christ, this woman has the most amazing voice._ “You’d think they’d pick up that he has a second car hidden away somewhere.”

“Tim leaves it at _work!_ ” Tam exclaims, amusement clearly evident on her fine features. “He parks the damn thing in the employee lot. The executive lot is the bottommost parking lot in the garage. Instead of taking the executive elevator like he’s supposed to, he walks down a few flights of stairs to pick up the employee elevator and takes that down instead. When he comes back, he goes back up, hikes up the stairs, then picks up the executive elevator to go back down to his other car.”

Jason’s shaking his head, trying not to crack up. “You’ve got to be shitting me. And nobody’s picked up on that?”

“He’s been doing it for years.”

“Shit.” Jason finally starts laughing.

Tam tells him a few other amusing stories about Tim and drags the story of how they met from Jason. “I want to hear it from your point of view,” she says. “Tim was smitten right from the start.”

“What can I say?” Jason gestures to himself. “I’m a diamond in the rough.”

“You’re certainly somethin’, that’s for sure.”

They chat for a bit longer while Tam finishes her beer. She fishes a 10 from her wallet. “Thanks for staying open for me.” No one’s entered in the 45 minutes or so she’s there.

“I’m curious,” Jason says as he walks her to the door. “What made you drive all the way across town just for a beer? I’m sure you have a lot nicer places you could go.”

Stepping outside into the cool November air, Tam smirks. “I do. But I wanted company tonight. Someone to talk to who I know is feeling just as lonely as I am. I miss him too.” She takes the few steps across the sidewalk and unlocks her car door.

As Tam drives away, Jason watches the taillights disappear into the darkness. _That is one of the most curious women I’ve ever met. No wonder she and Tim get on so well. I wonder if they have a history…_

*****

Jason stirs the contents of his crockpot, breathing in the warm scent. He’s decided it’s time to change up his menu and is testing two new menu items for the next few days.

_Curry fries and chili fries. It’s fuckin’ sad I know which one people will like more. God, I love curry fries. I wonder if Tim’s ever been to a real English pub? Or would that be an Irish pub?_

Roy’s sniffing around over his shoulder. “I get whatever the plebians don’t finish right?”

“There’s a dish in the fridge with your name on it already. It’s from the first batch I made earlier.”

“Score! Thanks Jaybird!” Roy prances out of the kitchen like the loon he is.

_At least someone appreciates my yellow curry._

It’s a Thursday evening and there’s just enough people here that Jason’s pretty much been banished to the kitchen. Whenever he tests out new food, the rule is that a person has to order something from the kitchen from the current menu in order to get a sample of the new items. He even prints out little comment cards and leaves pencils out for people.

Roy brought the collection box out from storage when he arrived earlier and saw Jason cutting out the cards. Kori had made it a couple years ago and Stephanie had added some of her flair to it as well.

“Oh!” Roy pops back into the kitchen. “I forgot when I got distracted by your food. There’s someone out front here asking for you. Don’t recognize him, but he kinda feels like a cop.”

Jason flashes back to the cop from a couple weeks ago. “Black hair, blue eyes, easy grin?”

“Yeah! Nailed it. You know him?”

“No, but I think I’m about to.” He quickly tells Roy what he remembers. It’s a short story.

“Well, he’s not in uniform, but that doesn’t mean anything really. Not wearing a gun either. Off-duty perhaps?”

“Let’s find out.” Jason walks out of the kitchen, Roy following.

The cop is sitting at the bar with a beer in front of him and a bowl of pub-mix. Jason keeps it under the counter during peak hours for easy access. He spots Jason and _waves_.

 _What the fuck is up with him?_ “Hey there,” he says with a slight frown, crossing his arms and leaning on the counter. “Heard you were askin’ for me?”

“Yeah!” the man says with a cheery grin. “I figured it was time to introduce myself. Knowing Tim, he’ll never get around to it.”

At Tim’s name, it suddenly clicks. _This doofus is Richard Grayson. This is Tim’s fucking older brother._ _Shit._ “Oh,” Jason says, not relaxing in the slightest. “And you know about me how exactly?” Tim has never once mentioned he’s told anyone in his family about Jason or the bar. The only person who knows is Tam.

The grin falters for a second, then comes back even brighter. “Tim told me about this place that makes great fried pickles. And you do! I’m Dick Grayson.” He holds out his hand.

Jason eyes it for a moment, making sure Dick knew he was contemplating not shaking it, before reaching over and taking the man’s hand. “Jason Todd,” he says. His grip is firm and calloused. _Here’s someone who actually works for a living._ “So you want to meet the person who makes your pickles? You were here, what? Two weeks ago?”

“No, I came here to meet Tim’s new _friend_. He has so few, I can’t help but be curious.”

_Are you good enough for Tim? What kind of world do you live in? What could you possibly offer to Tim? Guess what, fucker, I’ve thought of all these questions and more._

“If all his _friends_ have to go through a police interrogation, then I can certainly see why he has so few.”

Dick chuckles. “I’m not so bad. Bruce is the one who runs a full background check on people. That was a lot of fun growing up with.”

“What, are you the prescreening process or somethin’?”

“Or something,” Dick says, giving Jason an appraising look. “I gotta admit, you’re not what I was expecting. Tim’s a lot of things, but this place,” Dick gestures to the bar around them, “is very much out of his normal comfort zone _and_ stomping grounds.”

“Perhaps this is his new normal. You’re his brother, shouldn’t you know this kind of shit?” Jason’s a natural at pushing buttons and he knows he’s scored a hit at the implication that Dick doesn’t know his little brother as well as he thinks he does.

“I would if he’d just _talk to me_ ,” Dick almost growls. “He’s been tighter than a clam for the last month. Tim always comes to me when he needs to talk and after I heard about what happened at work…” the man trails off, not sure exactly how much Jason knows.

“What, you think he’s coming here and getting smashed? Drowning his problems in a bottle of beer instead of going to big brother to make things all better?” The look on Dick’s face tells Jason that’s precisely what he’s thinking. “Let me tell you something about your little brother’s drinking habits. He orders exactly one jack and coke, a double order of fried pickles with extra aioli, and when those are gone, he drinks water for however long he’s here.” _That’s safe enough information. I’m pretty sure Dickieboy here has no idea exactly what kind of relationship Tim and I have. Crap, I’m going to have to send Tim a message to give him a heads up about this. Don’t think this can wait for our call tomorrow._

A look of relief appears on Dick’s face. “Thank God,” he says quietly.

“We done here then?” Jason asks.

“Not quite,” Dick says, the appraising look back on his face. “Tell me a bit about yourself. Tim wouldn’t keep coming here if he didn’t consider you a friend.”

Jason quirks a brow, already knowing how this is going to go down. “Born in Crime Alley. Dad ditched me and Mom and she died when I was young. Lived on the streets as that was better than living in the system. Someone gave me a chance and I ran with it. Got my shit together and now I run this place.”

Dick’s reaction isn’t what Jason expects. He’s nodding along like he _understands_. “Never ceases to amaze me what happens when someone just takes a chance on another person.” His bright blue gaze stares up at Jason.

_Oh, fuck. That’s right. His parents died and Bruce Wayne took him in. Talk about taking a chance._

“You were a carnie kid or somethin’, right? Before the big guy in the suit took you in.”

It isn’t a question and Dick apparently knows it. “An acrobat actually. In a circus. That was my whole world until I was 10.”

_Damn, but his story could have been so similar to mine, it’s almost disgusting._

Jason shrugs. “And now look at you. Trying to save the world one arrest at a time.”

“Do you not like me or do you just not like cops?” The blunt question comes out of nowhere and surprises Jason.

“Both,” he replies honestly. “Tim’s a friend, but I don’t know you. He doesn’t talk about his family or work. Here, he’s just a regular guy who likes to play pool, throw darts, and eat bar food.”

Dick nods. “Fair enough.” He finishes his beer and fishes out his wallet, taking some cash out and laying on the bar. “It’s nice meeting you, Jason.” He nods again and walks out.

Jason’s eyes follow him all the way out the door.

Roy comes up to him. “Fuck, that was Tim’s brother? The cop?”

“Yeah. And something doesn’t smell right either. You okay on your own for a few minutes? I gotta send Tim a message.”

“Take as long as you need. I’ve got your back.”

Jason slaps Roy on the shoulder as he passes him. “You always do.”

***** 

Tim’s reply, when it comes, is an international call on the office phone. Jason checks his watch, it’s just after 7 in the evening, so it has to be early morning where he is. Roy offered to hang out tonight for a bit in case Tim decided to call and Jason’s glad he did as he can take the call in the privacy of his office.

“What the fuck happened?” Tim demands. “I never told Dick about this place, even in passing about the pickles.”

“Then I sure as hell have no idea. Perhaps you didn’t ditch your security as well as you think you’ve been doing?”

“Where the hell did you hear that I do that?” he snaps.

Jason lets it pass. Tim’s upset, he gets it. “Tam. She was here the other night. Great storyteller when you’re not around to interrupt.”

“Fuck,” Tim says emphatically. Jason can just see him running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“However he knows, it’s been at least two weeks. I remember him from the weekend right after we had lunch.”

“God, I’ve been so fucking careful.”

“Perhaps too careful,” Jason says. “He let slip that you’ve been buttoned up tight for the last month after something happened at work. That you used to come to him when you needed to talk. Shit, he thought you had a drinking problem and that’s why you’ve been coming here.”

“This is the last thing I need right now.”

“Don’t worry, I disabused him of that notion for you.”

“Did he seem like he knew anything about us?” Tim asks carefully.

Jason shakes his head before remembering he’s on the phone and not a video call. “No, not at all. Just that I’m you’re new go-to person for something normal.”

Tim sighs. “When you put it that way, I’m not surprised he’s concerned then. Out of all of us, he’s been the one most in touch with what normal really is. Damian doesn’t even pretend, while Bruce tries sometimes and usually botches it up.”

“And you?”

“Right now, I just want you. I’ll talk to Dick, see if I can’t find out how he knew about you without letting him know you reached out to me.”

“Can’t just ask a straight question in your family, can you?”

“No, which is another thing I like about you. I always know where I stand.”

Jason feels exhausted all of a sudden. _I can only imagine what he feels._ “And you always will. I gotta get back out front before Roy does something stupid. You gonna be okay?”

“I will be when I get home. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Later, rich boy.” Jason hangs up the phone and looks at it blankly.

_Who the fuck is following Tim here? And how did his older brother find out? Does this mean Brucie Wayne and the demon spawn do too? Shit…  
_

*****

A few days pass and Tim still has no idea who’s been following him, but he’s willing to bet Damian has something to do with it.

“It’d be just like him to go and pull something like this to discredit me even more,” he’d ranted the next time he and Jason video chat.

Jason lets Tim vent. He’s still overseas, London now, but his hands are tied by the distance.

The following Tuesday night finds Jason with a busier than usual crowd thanks to the Gotham Knights having a Tuesday night game. He’s glad for the distraction, but the game is soon over and by quarter to 11, the bar is empty. He turns off the TVs, enjoying the silence.

_Fine by me. Got some reading I want to do._

When he opened the bar earlier, he’d brought down a copy of _The Prince_. Machiavelli certainly fit his mood. He’s barely had a chance to read all night.

_I’ll give it until 11, then lock up._

Leaning against the back counter, Jason opens the book and starts reading from where he left off. A few minutes later, the sound of a car door slamming out front has him pulling his attention away from the book and towards the door.

A young man walks in looking like he owns the place. He’s in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, sneakers, but something about them instantly strikes Jason as being _off_.

_Like a rich kid trying to dress down by wearing the $100 jeans instead of the $500 pair._

Black hair, olive skin, and when the guy looks at Jason, he sees piercing blue eyes. He’d be handsome if it weren’t for the hint of a sneer on his face.

He sits down in Tim’s usual spot, running his hands lightly over the dark wood grain of the bar in front of him. Jason sets down his book. “Welcome in,” he says. “What can I get ya?”

_If he’s over 21, I’ll eat Roy’s hat._

The sneer grows slightly before morphing into what would otherwise be a charming smile. “Whiskey and coke,” he says.

Jason quirks an eyebrow. “Coke, sure, but for the whiskey part, I’ll need some ID.”

“You don’t need to see my ID.”

Laughing sharply, Jason replies. “This ain’t _Star Wars,_ kid and I’m no stormtrooper. ID now or you can just walk right back out that door.”

The young man pulls out a wallet and slides a card out of it to hand to Jason.

 _No enterprise is more likely to succeed than one concealed from the enemy until it is ripe for execution._ Machiavelli’s words run through Jason’s head as he reads the name on the ID.

 _Damian al’Ghul Wayne_.

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckitty fuck._

“Well, looks like it’s just coke for you then.” Jason hands Damian his ID back and grabs a glass.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Damian’s voice is smooth, cultured, and has the faintest hint of an accent Jason can’t quite place.

“Nice try, kid.” He sets the glass down in front of Damian. “So you checking up on your brother too?” No need to pretend he doesn’t know Tim. _If the littlest Wayne is here, then he knows._

The sneer comes back as Damian takes a small sip of his soda. “Like I care what that buffoon does in his spare time.”

“Then why’re you here?”

Damian’s gaze is cool and assessing. “I am here because for the last two months, not counting Drake’s time overseas, he has been _here_ each and every Tuesday night. He’s even taken you out for lunch. I am trying to learn more about a new player making his way slowly onto the field.”

 _Goddamn, but this kid is dangerous. I thought Tim may have been exaggerating some, but this is barely the tip of the iceberg._ Jason smirks inwardly. _But then again, Tim’s the one with the real hidden depths. He just hasn’t been pushed hard enough until recently to show it._

“I’m hardly a player,” Jason drawls. “I’m perfectly happy with my little corner of the Bowery.” He gestures to the bar.

“Jason Peter Todd, age 28,” Damian says. “Born in Crime Alley and left to raise himself on the streets until one Michael Callahan gives him a job unpacking freight. Given the chance to go straight, he takes it, getting a GED and later an associates degree in business from Gotham Community College where he excelled in all of his classes, showing a particular proficiency in the fine arts, specifically literature. Upon Callahan’s passing, he inherits this bar and the entire building, creating for himself a little empire in this pocket of the Bowery.” He ends his recitation with a smirk. “Did I miss anything?”

 _Well ain’t that a kick in the ass? My whole life, summed up in just a few words._ Jason scowls. “Is this the background check your cop brother warned me about?”

There’s a slight twitch to Damian’s face that reveals his surprise. “Grayson has been here too?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Jason replies with a smirk. “Twice. Although, he’s acting more like the protective older brother who’s looking out for the safety and wellbeing of his younger brother. You’re trying to get something. Not exactly sure what, but whatever it is, I ain’t giving it to you. Tim’s a friend. You’re not.”

_He didn’t say anything about that Saturday night before Tim left. He’s never been here on a Saturday and who’d suspect he’d even do so with an international flight early the next morning? This little shit knows a lot, but he doesn’t know exactly what kind of relationship Tim and I have._

Damian takes another small sip of his soda, trying to hide his sudden scowl. “Perhaps I am trying to be a concerned brother. A dive bar in the Bowery is certainly not a place any _real_ Wayne would come to.”

“And yet, here you sit. Look, kid. I ain’t buying what you’re trying to sell. I didn’t with your cop brother either. Tim comes in every Tuesday night, orders one jack and coke, a double order of fried pickles with extra aioli, and drinks water when he’s done with his drink. We talk about whatever he brings up, but usually books and cartoons.”

“Fine,” Damian says with a sense of finality. “Your loyalty, however misplaced, is with Drake. If I find that you have anything to do with whatever it is he’s planning, I _can_ and _will_ make sure you suffer for it.” Taking out his wallet again, he slaps a bill on the bar and leaves.

_Goddamn motherfucking Waynes! What the fuck am I getting dragged into?_

***** 

When Jason tells Tim about Damian’s visit, his normally handsome face contorts in rage.

 _“What the bloody fucking hell is he up to?”_ he shouts, upsetting the laptop as he leaps out of bed. From the contorted angle of the screen, Jason can see him pacing.

“Not sure, but whatever it is, he thinks I’m involved. I _don’t_ appreciate being threatened by a spoiled rotten brat. The thing that sucks the most is that I know he can follow through with it.”

Jason hears Tim heave a big sigh. He comes back and straightens the screen as he kneels on the bed. “Jason, I am so sorry,” he almost chokes. “If it weren’t for me, none of this would be happening to you.”

“Well, we can’t go back and change the past. All we can do is deal with the present. Besides, I rather like having you around. Life sure as fuck isn’t _boring_ anymore.” At heart, Jason’s a pragmatist. He learned long ago that being anything else was just a waste of time.

Tim huffs one of his small laughs. “No, it certainly isn’t. Look, I’ll do damage control when I’m back. I’ll leave as soon as I can on Friday. Just a few more days.”

“I expect a good souvenir for all the shit your family is giving me.”

The younger man grins. “I’ve picked you up something from each city I’ve been to. I think you’ll like them.”

“I’d better.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all the Damian lovers out there, remember, he's the antagonist here. Not calling him a bad guy, but he's the source of all Tim's problems.
> 
> Also, curry fries. Or chips if you're not in the US. They're a thing. Go and try them. You will not be disappointed.
> 
> Unless a miracle happens, Chapter 7 will not be coming out tomorrow. It's not even a quarter of the way done. I'll have it up Tuesday. And Tim will finally stick it to Damian. Muwahahaha! Until then! :)


	7. Homecoming

Chapter 7 - Homecoming

Friday is a painful day for Jason. Tim said he would come to the bar that night when he could get away. _Thanks to the time difference between London and Gotham, it’s very likely he’s back already_. He looks at his watch for the umpteenth time that night.

“Just calm down, Jaybird. He’ll be here soon,” Roy tries to sooth him. “Kori and I’ll close tonight for you when he does.” Jason told both of them what happened the other night with Damian. They may not know all of what’s going on, but all of Gotham knows there’s no love lost between the middle and youngest Wayne heirs.

“Thanks,” Jason says. “I’m fucking useless tonight. I’ll be in the kitchen making a mess.”

“Just make sure it’s edible. I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me.”

When Jason is stressed, he’ll do one of two things. Punch something or cook. Since he didn’t want the cops coming down on his place for a brawl, he starts cooking. He loses himself in the process, methodically chopping ingredients and preparing a fresh batch of curry. Much to his surprise, it’s proven to be just as popular as the chili.

When a voice quietly calls his name, it takes him a moment to come back to himself. Looking up, Tim is standing on the other side of the metal table, dressed casually like the last time, but sporting a Gotham Knights jersey and cap instead. He drops his knife with a clatter.

Tim takes that as his hint to come around the table to embrace Jason tightly. He’s slightly embarrassed by how hard he’s squeezing Tim back. _Fuck it, I’ve missed him. Nothing wrong with that._ He tears the cap off Tim’s head, wanting to feel and breathe in the scent of his black hair.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Jason whispers.

“I’m glad to be home,” Tim replies quietly. “I have so much to tell you.”

“Successful trip?”

“Very.”

“Gonna stick it to everyone soon?” Jason pulls back a bit so he can see Tim’s face.

The evil, awful, you’re-screwed-and-don’t-even-know-it-yet smirk is there, just like he knew it would be. He feels a twist in his gut. _Christ, that look is so fucking hot when it’s not directed at me._

“Yes,” Tim replies in a very satisfied tone. “The next board meeting is Monday. I’ve already got a draft of my resignation letter typed up.”

Jason chuckles. “Wish I could be there to see that.”

“I’ll give you the play-by-play.”

He kisses the top of Tim’s head. “Roy and Kori have offered to close for me tonight.”

“Really?” Tim’s smirk morphs into something a bit more teasing. “And whatever are you going to do with a night off?”

Jason starts rubbing his hands slowly up Tim’s back and back down, making a point to run them over the slight curve of his ass and squeeze. “You.”

*****

Jason stands in his shower, hands braced in front of him as he leans on the smooth tile. Warm water beats down on his shoulders and runs down his face. On his knees in front of him, Tim is being surprisingly successful at swallowing down his pierced cock. _Where the fuck did he learn this? Said he’s never been with another man before. What’d he do, practice?_ The thought amuses him and his shifts his hips slightly, thrusting a bit to see what the other man does.

Tim pulls back with a gasp and shoots Jason a glare with those beautiful baby blue eyes of his. The full force of it is lost as his wet hair falls across his face. “Problem?” he asks a bit defensively. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, right,” Jason snorts, thrusting into the firm grip Tim still has on him. “You’ve got me in the back of your throat. That takes practice.”

The shy Tim makes a quick appearance as he strokes Jason’s cock. “I’ve been wanting to do this for awhile. Didn’t want to seem completely incompetent, so yeah, I did practice. Condom covered dildo.” He looks down quickly, then back up at Jason.

“A for effort,” Jason says. “Now get that mouth back on me. I also want to see you jack yourself off while you’re doing it.”

Tim falls back onto Jason’s cock like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, moaning a bit as he swallows around the head and tickling the barbell with his tongue. Jason watches him take his own cock in hand and start stroking. _That is some grip he has. Likes it a bit rough. Christ, I can’t wait until I can fuck him.  
_

It’s not long before Jason feels the familiar tightening in his gut signaling his release. “Fuck…Tim…” he warns.

The shorter man doesn’t pull back and redoubles his efforts, moaning again. The vibration sends a shiver through Jason and he spills down Tim’s throat as he comes with a shout.

Gasping, he pulls out of Tim’s slackening grip and watches a trickle of liquid flow from Tim’s mouth. The younger man swallows and continues to stroke himself, eyes shut tightly as he tries to reach his own orgasm. Jason reaches down and traces a finger through his come and starts rubbing it on Tim’s lips. The man’s eyes crack open a bit, watching Jason. “Come for me, Tim.”

Tim gasps and, a couple of strokes later, comes all over his hand. He gives Jason a lazy smile, which Jason returns. _So fucking hot. Looks like he enjoys being bossed around a bit too. We’re going to have a kink talk here soon._

They clean up quickly and it’s not long before they’re cuddled together in Jason’s big bed.

“How long are you stayin’?” Jason asks as Tim curls up into his side. Neither man has bothered to get dressed. _He’s had a long ass day._

“Until you kick me out,” Tim says into his shoulder.

“Stay the night,” Jason replies. “I’ll make breakfast in the morning.”

“I like waffles,” Tim mumbles.

*****

The following morning, Tim watches blearily as Jason pours the batter into the hot waffle iron. He's sitting on a stool he dragged over from the counter to perch on the other side of the island. Jason gives him an amused look. Tim's hair is all kinds of crazy from falling asleep with it wet and he's somehow appropriated one of Jason's t-shirts. Jason is pretty sure that’s the only thing he’s wearing.

"You're not a morning person, are you?" he asks.

Tim gives him a blank stare. Jason can just see the wheels turning as he processes the question. "No," he slowly replies. "Need coffee."  

"Sorry, but this is a coffee-free loft,” he announces with a smartass grin. “I'll make you a cup of strong tea in a minute. It'll get the process started."

The look Tim gives him plainly shows his disgust at that answer.

"You want coffee when staying here, bring your own coffee pot and crap. I'll make space." The words are barely out of Jason's mouth when he realizes what he said. _Holy shit, I just gave him an open invite._ The thought is not entirely unappealing.

Tim is apparently awake enough to register it too. "Really?" His face has taken on a look of almost childlike glee.

Jason nods. "Yeah. Just don't take all my shirts."

Tim grins.

****

Tim perks up a bit with food in his stomach. He made a face at the tea but drinks it. When they're done, he scrambles over to the sofa where he left his backpack the night before, flashing a toned leg as he does so. He digs around and pulls out a brown paper bag.

"Here," he says, handing the bag to Jason who's trying to wash dishes. "Or, when you're done," as he notices Jason's hands are soapy wet. "Want me to dry?"

 _He's like a sugared up child._ "They can drip dry," Jason replies. "Gimme a sec." He finishes quickly. "So what’s this?"

"Your souvenirs!" Tim sounds gleeful as he shoves the bag at Jason. It's not heavy at all but is bulky. "Open it."

Jason quirks an eyebrow at Tim's obvious excitement but does as he's told without a comment. _It'd just go right over his head anyway._ He pulls out a sealed container, then another, and another. The last one is the only one he can read as the other two look like Chinese.

"English breakfast," he reads on the label on the bottom of the tin. It's sealed tightly. The others, though illegible to him, are sealed the same way. He looks up at Tim in surprise. "You brought me tea."

Tim nods vigorously. "One from each country I visited." His eyes are bright as he searches Jason's face.

Jason blinks quickly, struck hard by a surge of emotion he hasn't felt since Mike died. "I...Thank you. This is one of the best gifts I've ever gotten."

Tim looks pleased. "I remembered you like tea. This one," he points to the light green tin, "is green matcha from Japan. This one," he points to the darker green tin, "is jasmine tea from China. Like the kind you get at a Chinese restaurant but better."

Setting aside the tins, Jason grabs Tim and pulls him into a tight hug. "Thank you," he says again.

As he lets go, Tim gives him a sappy grin then yawns widely. He looks surprised while Jason laughs. "I'll break my no coffee in the loft rule for you this once. There's a keurig down in the bar. It's Kori's so god knows what kind of shit she drinks, but I'll go get you a cup. Lay down before you hurt yourself."

Tim nods and stumbles back across the loft to flop on Jason's bed and curl up. _He looks like he's out already._ Shaking his head, Jason puts on some pants and slips on a pair of house slippers he'll never admit to Roy that he loves. He grabs a mug and heads down to the bar and slips in through the kitchen entrance.

As the keurig burbles, Jason steps into his office to check the ledger from last night, then pokes his head out front. For all that he gives Roy shit, he trusts him and Kori implicitly. But the red haired man can be an airhead and forget to turn off the TVs. Everything looking as it should, Jason returns to the kitchen and picks up the hot mug.

Returning to the loft, Jason decides to test a theory. He walks over to the bed and stands there with the mug just long enough for the smell to waft down to Tim, idly taking in the sight of Tim’s ass peaking out from beneath the hem of his shirt. The slender man is practically swimming in it. Tim shifts closer to Jason in his sleep. He takes a step back and Tim moves closer to the edge of the bed.

Laughing silently, Jason heads back to his kitchen to wait.

Sure enough, a few moments later, Tim practically falls out of bed and streaks across the loft to the kitchen, making a beeline for the mug Jason set on the island. He downs half of it in one breath, breathes, then slowly sips the rest. Jason is amazed at the almost instant transformation in Tim as the sleepiness disappears. "Jesus, what happens if you hook a caffeine drip directly into a vein?" he asks.

Tim shrugs. "I'd probably come up with a plot to take over the world. Or take out Damian. Either is possible." He's much more coherent now.

"Didn't Tam say it takes you three cups to get going in the morning?"

"Not quite," Tim replies as he finishes the mug. "It takes one to wake up, two to get out the door, and three to work up the willpower to walk into WE. And if I know Damian's going to be there, then four to make it up the elevator."

It's said in such a blasé tone that Jason just shakes his head in wry amusement. "Good to know I don't have to pour the shit down your throat to be able to talk to you in the mornings."

"I also slept for about 10 hours, so that helps. You're nice and warm to sleep next to, you know?"

"Yeah, I run warm."

Tim gives him an affectionate look. “Thanks for the coffee. You’re right too; it is shit. Way too sweet.”

“You want more, you go find it yourself,” Jason says but there’s no bite to it. “So what are your plans for today? It’s almost 11. I need to go down to the bar to get my crockpots going, but other than that, Roy and Steph’ll be here to open.”

Tim fiddles with his mug as he thinks. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay here for a bit longer. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going last night and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Jason snorts. “Just as long as I don’t get arrested for kidnapping the Wayne heir, that’s fine. But Damian does know about your little car swap trick, so if he sends someone looking, they’re going to see it.”

One of Tim’s evil and devious smirks appear. “He won’t find it. I took the subway and the bus up here last night.”

It’s Jason’s turn for a jaw dropping moment. “The fuck, seriously? I didn’t think a rich boy like you even knew how to use public transportation.”

Tim gives him a dirty look. “College student, remember? I used it all the time in California. It’s not all that different here. Dirtier, but that’s about it.”

“Bet your security detail is flipping their shit right now.”

Shrugging, Tim finishes his coffee. “Sasha should be used to it by now. She at least knows I’m home.”

“Sasha? Your bodyguard’s name is Sasha?” Jason gives Tim an incredulous look.

“Sasha Bordeaux. And yes, she’s just as kick-ass as her name sounds. Bruce thought assigning her to me would stop me from wandering around, but it just made me get more creative in how I do it.”

Jason shakes his head. “You’re a little shit sometimes, you know that?”

“You’re just now figuring this out?”

*****

Tim holes up in Jason’s loft while he heads down to the bar to get things started. As Jason left, he’s taking out a laptop and his phone and making himself comfortable on the sofa. He still hasn’t put on anything besides the shirt.

Jason doesn’t mind, he rather likes the view. _He’s got a pretty sweet looking ass. And with the way he’s going, it won’t be long now._

He gets his prep-work done quickly, tossing everything into the crockpots. It doesn’t bother him that he’ll have to do this a few times over the course of the day with the size of the cookware he was available. He enjoys cooking and doesn’t see it as a chore. _Years on the street will do that to a person. Christ, it still amazes me sometimes that I turned out as big as I am._

Stephanie arrives through the backdoor and gives him a quick hug. “Tim make it back okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, he’s playing catch up with everything right now. He’s upstairs.” It didn’t occur to Jason that Steph would squeal loudly at that. _Fuck, that’s loud_.

“Oh my god, that’s great! Will he be down at all later? I got a question I want to ask him.”

Jason shrugs. “Not sure. He’s trying to hide from his family right now and they know he comes here sometimes.”

Steph makes a face. “Sometimes? Ha! Jay, do they even know about you and him?”

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “And we kinda want to keep it that way, at least for a little while longer.”

“My lips are sealed.” Steph makes a zipping motion across her lips. “So, where are you with everything? Need a hand?” Steph is surprisingly good in the kitchen and can help with keeping things going back here before Jason comes down for the night.

They finish everything and Roy finally arrives just before Jason is about to go unlock the front door and turn on the lights. “Hey, Jaybird! I hope you got some last night!”

“Still not going to talk about it, Roy!”

Roy laughs. “I know, but I still gotta give you crap. Get your ass back upstairs, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Jason flips him the bird and walks out.

*****

Jason enters the loft to find Tim typing madly on his laptop and talking to Tam on speaker.

"No, but that's not entirely out of the realm of possibility." He looks up at Jason as he walks across the loft to the kitchen. "Hey, I gotta go. Jason's back."

"Hi Jason!" Tam says loudly.

Chucking, Jason heads over to the sofa. "Hey Tam, what's shakin'?"

"WE come Monday afternoon," she replies with the definite sound of satisfaction in her voice. "I'll leave you two lovebirds be. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She hangs up.

Tim opens and closes his mouth a few times, just as surprised by the comment as Jason. "Um..."

Jason sits down next to Tim and ruffles his hair. "Don't worry about it. We are acting like saps right now."

The tension leaves Tim's shoulders. He closes his laptop with a snap and leans into Jason. "I really did miss you, you know. Which is hilarious since we talked more while I was gone than the whole time we've known each other."

Jason ruffles Tim's hair affectionately. "I get it. You getting ready for Monday?" he asks, changing the topic.

"Yeah. Tam was reading through my resignation letter and made a few suggestions. We're trying to plan for everything."

"Brainiacs, both of you."

"Just being thorough. Bruce is going to come at us from all sides. Damian's actually the easy one. He'll roll out the red carpet if it'll get me out of WE faster."

The mention of Bruce brings to mind something Jason's been thinking about these last several weeks. "So, I guess that's the part I don't really get. Bruce is your dad and I know he's playing both sides of the fence because he's trying not to play favorites, so how does leaving WE stick it to him and Damian?"

Tim sighs and rubs his face, dislodging his glasses in the process. He picks them up and sets them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. "It's complicated but I'll give it a shot." His brow furrows a bit as he thinks, trying to decide where to start.

"Bruce is one of the most, if not the most, driven person I have ever met. And this is saying something, considering who my parents were. He has such a narrow focus though that if it's not related to work then he just doesn't see it. He's smart and talented and downright visionary but he sucks at interpersonal relationships. This doesn't mean he doesn't love the three of us, but he just doesn't get or see the in-fighting between us. Or really me and Damian. Dick's been gone and out of the manor doing his own thing for so long he's not even in the equation. That and Bruce is still pissed at his decision to become a cop even though he's been doing it for almost 8 years now and just made detective last year."

Tim sighs in frustration before continuing. "Anyway, when Damian first came to live with us, I was 17 and he was 10. He'd been raised like a prince in his mother's household and expected the same treatment here in Gotham. He thought, and still thinks, I'm no better than a lapdog, hanging on to Bruce to suck him dry, though I work twice as hard as he does most of the time. When I left for college, it wasn't too bad as I was all the way across the country, but when I came back last year Bruce would barely give me the time of day, focusing all of his attention on Damian. I talked to Alfred about it and he said Bruce is trying to repair his relationship with Damian. Apparently while I was gone he left in a snit and went back to his mother. She sent him back to Bruce."

Jason chuckles darkly at that. "She didn't want to deal with his shit either?"

Tim snorts. "Nope. So I come back and it's almost like I don't exist. It was actually Lucius, Tam's dad, who got me situated at WE as his second. He's the CFO. I quickly got involved with R&D though, which was great as that's the stuff I really studied for and interests me."

"What did you go to school for exactly? And where?" Jason interrupts. "I know you have three degrees but in what?"

"I went to Stanford for my undergrad in engineering and finance and CalTech for my Masters in biomechanical engineering. I've also got what probably equates to a masters in computer sciences too thanks to a slightly misspent youth." Tim looks embarrassed by that last part.

Jason blinks as he takes it in and looks down in shock at the mop of black hair resting on his shoulder. "And you’re _how old?_ ”

“25.”

“You’re actually a genius, aren’t you?”

Tim nods and pulls away from Jason’s shoulder to see him better. “I graduated high school when I was 17. I should have sooner, but I didn’t want to.”

A wave of insecurity washes through Jason. _He’s a goddamned genius. Three fucking degrees from schools even I know are the best in the US. I have an associate’s from Gotham Community College. How can I even compare with something like this? I’m well-read but damn…_ “Jesus fucking Christ what the hell are you doing with a bum like me?"

Tim shoots him a glare. "You're not a bum, Jay. I've already told you I think you can so much more and I still believe that. If I didn't know you'd be a complete asshole about it, I'd offer to foot the bill for you to get a bachelors or whatever the hell you want to go to school for. Culinary school even."

 _What the everloving fuck?_ Jason opens his mouth and closes it, then does it again. _He'd do that for me? God, it's a drop in the bucket for him but that's a shit ton of money for me._ Then another important thought shoves its way in and Jason finally speaks. "What are we? I mean...dammit, I don't randomly screw around with people anymore and I know you don't either..." he trails off realizing he's babbling.

Tim's giving him a look of amusement and fondness. "I think of you as my boyfriend and have since before I left. But we haven't even had a real date yet so…”

Jason laughs uproariously, knowing it has a wild edge to it, and not caring as he needs to let out his emotions. “God, we're doing things ass-backwards, aren’t we?” he says as he catches his breath. “I want to date you, Tim. Fuck me, but I do. I just don’t see how I can even compare to...”

“It’s not a competition,” Tim interrupts, shifting so that he’s on his knees facing Jason. “I really like you, Jason. _You_. The guy who argues Pratchett versus Gaiman with me, quotes Shakespeare, loves _Adventure Time_ and _Game of Thrones_ and _Big Bang Theory_ , thinks _Star Wars_ is better than _Star Trek_ , runs his own business, and makes the best plate of fried pickles I’ve ever had. You can keep up with me, Jay. You already do, don’t you know how _rare_ that is?” He finishes, hands clenching the hem of Jason’s shirt tightly, his eyes wild after his impassioned plea.

 _He’s such a nerd. And so am I. I want this so bad. I want him. He’s so friggin’ perfect. God, I’m babbling in my head too._ “You keep up with me too,” Jason says quietly. “I never really noticed, but I surround myself with people who can.” _Roy. Kori. Even Steph in her own way._ He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I want to do this. Fuck, but I do.”

“So…does this mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” Tim asks hopefully.

Jason barks a sharp laugh. “Yes,” he says, reaching out and grabbing Tim to haul him into his lap. “Yes, I’ll be your fucking boyfriend.”

Tim’s grin could light up the whole city, it’s so bright. He straddles Jason’s broad thighs and reaches out to pull him into a kiss, lips pressing firmly against Jason’s as he wraps his arms around his neck. “Will you go out with me?” he asks, barely pulling away.

“Yes,” Jason says quietly, running his hands down Tim’s back and down over his ass, reaching under the hem of the shirt to knead at the firm flesh. He can feel Tim start to harden as he presses himself against Jason’s thigh, starting to rock back and forth to generate friction. Nipping lightly at Tim’s neck, Jason runs a finger along the crack of his ass, pressing slightly when he finds the right spot.

Tim rears up with a gasp, eyes wild as he looks at Jason. “Yes...” he gasps out.

“Bet I can make you come with just a finger.” Jason reaches down and pulls a small bottle of lube from between the sofa cushions.

His _boyfriend_ groans as he rocks harder. “Fuck yes,” he says, tearing at Jason’s t-shirt to yank it over his head.

*****

A little while later, Jason is sprawled on his sofa with a naked Tim stretched out on top of him. The smaller man is still in a daze from his strong orgasm but appears to be coming out of it. He hugs him close, breathing in the scent of his shampoo in Tim’s hair.

Tim nuzzles into Jason’s chest, idly playing with one of the nipple rings. “I never finished my story earlier.”

 _Apparently he’s recovering faster than I thought_. “Yeah, but it was a good interruption.” He feels Tim chuckle. “You said Fox moved you over to R &D. This chip, it’s really your project, isn’t it? You’re the one working on it.”

Tim nods, shifting so that he folds his arms across Jason’s chest and rests his chin on his hands. “It is, but I’m also working with a brilliant scientist by the name of Victor Stone. Vic originally came from STAR Labs and is very much on board with following me over to the new Drake Industries.”

“So if you’re in the lab, then how did you get roped into a business trip?”

“I’m still Bruce Wayne’s son and a Vice President of WE in my own right, not to mention a member of the board of directors. My word and presence carry a lot of weight.”

Jason nods thoughtfully. “So you’re all this even though Bruce is focusing on Damian. It can’t have happened without his approval, right?”

“Right. I wasn’t present, but Lucius really went to bat for me and got Bruce to sign off on it. I swear, that man is more my dad sometimes than Bruce is.”

“If he’s anything like Tam, then I heartily approve.”

Tim laughs. “Yeah, she is pretty cool. So going back to my relationship with Bruce, we’ve been butting heads since I came back, both at the office and at home. It’s gotten so bad, I bought my own place over in the Upper West Side and have been living there for the better part of year now. He just isn’t listening or understanding what Damian is doing to me. From what I can tell, and Alfred had to point this out, Bruce is seeing our in-fighting as a form of brotherly competition to get his attention and play favorites.”

 _Alfred…right, the family butler, the one who raised Bruce after his parents were killed. Tim said once he’s almost like a grandfather to him._ “Sibling rivalry, but with bigger things at stake?”

“You got it. Here’s what makes my plan so awesome though. Damian has even worse people skills than Bruce does. He simply cannot relate to people who are not in his peer group. And even then, that’s pushing it as money certainly doesn’t buy intelligence. It’s these people who make up the majority of whom Damian will have to interact with when I leave. If people start leaving en masse, good people who are competent at their jobs and keep the gears turning at WE, then Bruce is going to be forced to notice that Damian isn’t everything he’s been making himself out to be.”

“I thought you were concerned about people being fired by the demon shit?”

“I was, but when I mentioned it to Lucius in passing one day, he said even when Damian turns 18, he won’t have the authority to fire anyone. On paper, Damian is technically an intern though I’m sure that will change soon. If he’s given his own department to manage, he’s going to find himself the only person there when everyone quits and puts him down as the reason on their exit surveys.”

Jason chuckles. “And let me guess, anyone who quits WE can come looking for a job at DI? Isn’t that called poaching or something?”

“There’s nothing wrong with finding a new job at a competitor. That’s what non-disclosure agreements are for. The one I’ll have to sign when I leave will be _massive_.”

“So what it really boils down to then is your leaving will, over a period of time, show Bruce just how incompetent his son is. What will that make him to do?”

A thoughtful look appears on Tim’s face. “Bruce isn’t a people person, but he does recognize and regularly acknowledges the hard work and dedication of those he employs. He knows WE can’t be as successful as it is without these people. Damian doesn’t get that. My leaving will force Bruce to acknowledge this and in turn force him to do something about it, even if that means sending Damian to go do charity and volunteer work with real people to see if that can’t teach him some compassion and humility.”

“The little bastard could do with choking down a few humble pies.” Jason smirks, then gets serious. “But Bruce is not going to see this right away though,” he says with concern. “He’s going to see it as you retaliating to being shut down. Like throwing a temper tantrum.”

“Initially, yes. But when he has time to cool down, he’ll remember I never do anything without thinking about it all the way through. I talked to Alfred about what I’m doing and he agrees with me. He also said it’s time I become my own person.”

 _You already are in my opinion._ “I’d love to meet this guy.”

Tim smiles, warmth lighting up his fine features. “Alfred’s the best. You’d really like him too. He’s just as much a tea and literature nut as you are. He’s also a classically trained stage actor, at least in his youth. He in his 70s now, but is as sharp as ever.”

“Sounds like fun. So what’s your plan for the rest of the weekend? You’re welcome to hide here if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Tim says, placing a kiss on the center of Jason’s chest. “But I don’t want to overstay my welcome. And you’ve got the bar to deal with.”

“Shit I’ve been dealing with for years,” Jason drawls. “You’ve got a big week ahead, so relax while you can. If you ever decide to put clothes on, just come down later and I’ll feed you.”

“I want to try those curry fries. And the chili fries,” Tim says with a smile. “I didn’t realize you’re using steak fries too. I could quite happily make a meal on those alone.”

“Clothes then. No streaking around my building.”

“Just in here?”

“Clothing is completely optional in here.”

Tim’s small smile morphs into something more devious as he sits up, straddling Jason again, and starts running his hands along Jason’s nipples. “Then I think you’re still overdressed. And I owe you for earlier too. Do we have enough time before you have to head down?”

Jason thrusts lightly up against Tim’s ass where it’s settled onto his groin. “What do you think?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And thanks to the existence of something called plot, there's no way in hell I can wrap this up in 7 chapters. I don't think I'm going to hear any complaints about that... :P


	8. Confrontations

Chapter 8 - Confrontations

When Jason enters the bar for the evening, Roy, Kori, and Steph all give him wide grins. “What?” he almost growls, feeling a bit self-conscious.

Steph walks right up to him and pokes at a spot on his neck. “Somebody had some fun,” she says in a sing-song voice.

Batting her hand away, Jason rubs at the spot on his neck where Tim had rather energetically left a mark earlier while Jason was fingering him. “None of your business,” he says sharply, giving all of three of them pointed looks.

“We know, Jason,” Kori says calmly. “We’re just happy for you. Is Tim going to be coming down at all? I’d really like the chance to get to know him better.”

Jason forces himself to relax. _They all mean well, but they don’t know what’s going on right now. Soon. Very soon, I’ll be able to talk about it._ “Yeah, he’ll be down in a bit. He needs to clean up,” he finishes with a cocky smirk. _It didn’t happen quite the way it sounds, but they don’t need to know that._

His three closest friends all burst out laughing. “Good for you, Jaybird!” Roy crows.

“I hope he’s here before I leave,” Steph almost whines. “I’ve got to get Tam’s number from him. Do you think he’ll give it to me? Or if I give him mine, he’ll give it to her?”

 _Oh, she’s going to love that._ “If he’s not here before you leave, I’ll give him your number to pass along.” Jason looks around, noticing he must have walked in during a lull as there’s only a few people huddled around the TV at the back of the bar and a couple at the counter. “Slow day?”

Roy shakes his head. “Been packed almost from the start actually. I called Kori to come in early as poor Steph’s been trapped in the kitchen all afternoon.”

“I’m splitting tips,” Kori chimes in. “Steph’s been working very hard to keep everyone fed. Your fries have been popular.”

“Shit, why didn’t someone call me or come get me?” Jason looks at each one of them.

Steph smacks Jason on the back of the head. “Because you deserve to have some time off with your sexy smart boyfriend, especially since he’s been gone for three weeks.”

“Now that you’re here though, I could really do with a break,” Roy says.

“Go, all of you. I’ve got it covered here. The good college games start in what, an hour?”

Roy nods. He follows sports more than he does.

“Take fifty from the till and go get dinner somewhere. You all deserve it.” He looks at them again. They’re all tired, but happy. _Happy for me. What the hell did I do to deserve these guys?_ “Dinner’s on the house.”

*****

Tim walks in through the kitchen about 30 minutes later, wearing the ripped jeans and his jersey from the night before, hair pulled back in the messy half tail he seems to favor. Jason can just make out the collar of his white undershirt peeking through the v-neck of the jersey and smirks, knowing what the collar is hiding. He’d been careful to not mark up Tim’s neck, but had no compunction against decorating his collarbones.

The others still aren’t back yet and Jason’s a bit busy as he gets drinks going for the crowd starting to arrive for the collage football game. He’d run the numbers earlier and was _very_ pleased with what he saw.

Sitting at the bar, Tim watches Jason move deftly through pouring beer and loading up a tray. “Where are Steph and the others?” he asks.

“Taking a well deserved break,” Jason replies. “Should be back soon. I gave them some money to get a good dinner.” He quickly tells Tim what they’d done for them this afternoon.

“I can’t wait to get to know them better,” he replies. “Do you need a hand? Not sure I can take the tray without spilling everything, but I can go back and forth if you point me in the right direction.”

The thought of Timothy Drake-Wayne running tables and taking orders blows Jason’s mind for a moment. “I hate asking, but do you mind? I’m running my ass off and I’ve got three orders for the kitchen too.”

“I wouldn’t have offered I did,” Tim replies with a shrug as Jason sets the tray on the counter. “What’re all these and where are they going?”

Jason rattles off where the tall glasses and the pitcher he finishes filling up are going. He pulls out some glasses for the pitcher and watches with an amused grin as Tim starts working the floor. _Christ, I hope the guys are back in time to see this._ He runs back to the kitchen to fill the food orders.

They work together like this for a good 20 minutes, Tim getting more and more comfortable as he goes. Jason’s heading back to the kitchen again when he notices Roy, Kori, and Stephanie all peeking out the door with their mouths wide open in shock. “Knock it off losers, he offered,” Jason says as he pushes past them. “Doing a damn good job too.”

Steph almost squeals in excitement at the sight of Tim slinging a rag over his shoulder as he fills a pitcher behind the bar, chatting with the woman waiting for it. “I want to take a picture of this sooooo badly but I know I can’t. Oh my god, he’s just so cute!”

“And he’s taken, so paws off, blondie.” Jason notices the crockpots are starting to run low. “Hey, if you’re back on the clock, get out there and relieve our little millionaire waiter. I need to refill these things.”

It’s a few minutes before Tim comes to the back. “Did you know Stephanie wants Tam’s number?” he asks curiously as he washes his hands at the sink. “I don’t give it out without her permission, but I got Steph’s to give to her. She’s going to _love_ that when I call her later.”

Jason’s browning up the meat for his chili. “I bet. She was practically drooling whenever Steph would lean over the pool table last month.”

“I’m just glad Steph’s at least somewhat interested,” Tim replies, coming over to the metal work table and taking a look at everything Jason has laying out for his prep. “Tam doesn’t get out nearly as much as she should and deserves to have some fun. Now, what can I help with here? I’m not completely incompetent with a kitchen knife thanks to Alfie, so I can cut things if you want.”

“Have at it,” Jason says as he throws some diced onion in with the meat. “Bell peppers, finely diced, and try to keep them evenly cut.”

“Yes, sir.” Tim gives him a mock salute and gets to work.

*****

As the night slows down the closer it gets to midnight, Jason is amazed at just how well Tim and Kori are getting along. Kori is a bit standoffish with people she doesn’t know sometimes, though she’s been fully supportive of their relationship from the start. He’s overheard them talking business and math, and once, Tokyo street fashion, so he knows there’s nothing to worry about.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Tim groans as he sits at the bar with his usual jack and coke and basket of fried pickles that Jason made an exception to making for him after he’d closed the kitchen at 10. He’d scarfed down a plate of fries earlier, thoroughly enjoying the curry. “My feet are _killing me_. And I’m in comfy shoes!”

“It takes night after night of being up on your feet to get used to it. Good shoes help, but hell, even my feet hurt after a long day.” Jason grabs a tray to pick up a bunch of dirty glasses.

“I am forever revising my view of the service industry,” Tim says. “I mean, I knew you all work hard and get shit pay, but this? Yeah, I’m doubling my tips from here on out,” he finishes with a firm nod.

“Spoken like a true rich boy,” Jason replies. “How’s that gonna work for you when you’re not pulling in a six figure salary each year?”

Tim glares from over the rim of his glasses and pouts. “Trust fund. I have two.”

Jason laughs uproariously at Tim’s slightly chagrined look. “Two trust funds. Well, you better keep track of your nickels and dimes then.” He heads back to the kitchen, taking a large tray of glasses and pitchers with him.

_Goddamn…TWO trust funds. Jesus Christ and here I am happy that I have money in savings and a job with a decent income. I was thrilled last year when I finally was able to set up a retirement plan for everyone too. God, being a small business owner sucks sometimes but I wonder how Tim’s going to take to the adjustment because that’s essentially what he’s going to be here soon. Him, Tam, and this Victor guy, plus whoever else leaves WE to follow him. Yeah, he has investors, which is something I sure as hell don’t have, but what happens if this chip doesn’t work? Then he’s fucked._

Leaving the kitchen, he sees Tim staring moodily into his drink. “Come on, Timmy, that’s the look I see the sad drunks give their beers. You’ve been down here all evening, why don’t you go back upstairs or somethin’?”

“Do you want me to leave?” Tim looks up uncertainly. “I was just thinking about what I said and realized I’m being an ass.” He takes a sip from the drink in front of him.

 _Shit_. “Yes, you’re an ass sometimes, but that’s not what I mean. You can stay the night, go home, whatever you want to do. You’re a big boy and can make your own decisions. There’s not a whole hell of a lot more to do down here besides wait out last call, so you may as well do something productive, like finalize your plan to take over the world.”

Tim snorts and gives his glass another moody look. “I think it’s just dawning on me exactly what it is I’m doing. In six weeks, I’m going to be on my own. Making all the decisions. What if I make the wrong one?” He looks up again at Jason, a bit anxiously this time.

“Then Tam will smack some sense into you,” Jason replies, leaning on the bar directly in front of Tim. “It’s going to happen, Tim,” he says seriously. “I made all kinds of dumbass moves when I first took over here after Mike died. I thought I was ready, but there’s nothing really like taking those first steps on your own. You have support, but those steps are all you.”

A grateful look appears on Tim’s face. “I really want to kiss you right now. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

“Make it quick, while no one’s lookin'.” He leans over to meet Tim halfway. It’s fast, but no less heartfelt for it.

“I think I will go upstairs. Want me to come down about 2 and help close?”

Jason shrugs. “If you want to. It only takes me about 20 minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll make some tea for you and have that ready instead.”

“Sounds perfect.”

***** 

Jason wakes up Sunday morning to Tim curled up tightly at his side, wrapped in most of the blankets on the bed. He barely has any. _If he’s going to be staying here regularly, he needs his own blanket. This place can get cold in the winter, even with the improvements I made. There’s only so much you can do to seal old brick and mortar._

He slides out of bed and makes a quick stop to the bathroom before padding across the loft to the kitchen. He spies a French press and a bag of ground coffee he knew hadn’t been there yesterday. _Tim must have gone out at some point yesterday and got these. At least it’s not a coffee pot._

A cup of the new English breakfast tea and a banana later, Jason gets dressed, scrawls a note for Tim (leaving it by the coffee), and heads down to the bar. It’s just after 10:30 and he doesn’t open until 1 on Sundays, but food doesn’t fix itself. Historically, he serves more food on Sundays than he does any other day of the week. _Though yesterday sure was a surprise. I may need to run out and get a few things._

He loses himself in the prep-work, taking great satisfaction in the clean slice of his knife cuts as he cuts vegetables for the chili. He’s always had a thing for knives and the chef’s knife he splurged on a few years back is by far his favorite. _Cost a pretty penny, but so fucking worth it._

Everything is tossed into their respective crockpots and cooking away when Jason hears a muffled thumping coming from the bar. He’s elbow deep in the sink with soapy dishes. _What the hell is that?_

Opening the door to the kitchen slightly, he hears the sound more clearly. Someone is pounding on the front door like a mad man. Jason frowns. This is the Bowery after all, it could be anything. Then he hears his name. “Jason! If you’re in there, open up.” It’s not a voice he immediately recognizes.

“What the hell?” he mutters as he ducks behind the bar and grabs the .45 he keeps hidden. Roy, Kori, and Stephanie all know it’s there and know how to use it, just in case. _The fucking Bowery…_

There’s small peephole in the metal door. _T_ _he fuck?_ Jason unlocks the door, tucking the gun in the waist of his jeans at the small of his back.

Dick Grayson is standing there doing a very good impersonation of a thundercloud. “Where is he?” he demands in what Jason is pretty sure is his cop voice.

“Where’s who?”

“Don’t play games with me, Jason. Where is Tim? He hasn’t been home since he came back to Gotham.”

 _Shit, isn’t he supposed to be checking in with Sasha or whoever to keep this from happening?_ “What makes you think I know?”

“You’re his friend, Jason. He doesn’t have very many of those and I’ve already checked with the others.”

 _Tim’s going to have to deal with Dickieboy here sooner or later. I hope he’s up._ Jason steps to the side. “Come in.”

Dick enters and Jason closes the door behind him, locking it. He walks across the room, taking the gun out as he ducks back behind the bar to put it away.

“You’re armed?” Dick asks, watching Jason closely.

“This is the Bowery, Dickieboy. What would you do if someone came pounding on your door and shouting?” Jason can’t help the attitude. He’s pissed. _I know he’s just trying to be a good brother, but fuck, if he messes things up for tomorrow, I may just have to beat the shit out of him._ He’s pretty positive he can take Dick. The man’s built lean, but there’s quite the set of arms and shoulders to him that the shirt and light hoodie he’s sporting aren’t hiding to make him think twice. _Didn’t he say he was an acrobat?_

“Good point,” Dick says. “Sorry about that, but your phone keeps going to voicemail since it’s early.”

Jason shrugs. “Follow me.” He heads to the back and takes his keys out to unlock the office door. Leaving it open, he grabs the portable phone, noticing the flashing light for voicemails. The number he dials is newly memorized. _I hope he answers, I really don’t want this guy going upstairs with me._

Tim answers with a sleepy but coherent voice. “Morning, Jason.”

 _Good, he’s had coffee_. “Mornin’. You mind comin’ down? There’s a dickwad here to see you.”

“He’s what?” Tim almost shouts. “Fuck it, Dick, you asshole.”

It amused Jason to no end when he discovered the mouth Tim has on him when he’s mad. “Just get down here.”

“Give me a few minutes, I need to find my clothes.” Tim hangs up.

Jason smirks at the memory of last night as he hangs up the phone. _Showers are so much more enjoyable with Tim around._ “He’ll be here soon.”

“So you do know where he is.” It’s not a question.

“Never said I didn’t.” Jason brushes past Dick to go back to the kitchen. He needs to make something or he’s going to punch the cop.

Dick follows, just like Jason knew he would. He goes to the fridge and stares at the contents, trying to decide what to make. _I hope he takes the fucking clue and doesn’t talk._

“So I heard you own the whole building and live here too. Tim’s been staying with you?”

 _Fucker._ “Yeah,” Jason says as he takes out some eggs and some more vegetables. _Oh, bacon. This is a bacon morning_. He grabs the package. He sets the eggs and bacon aside and takes the vegetables to his cutting board, making a point to pull his knife out with a flourish to start chopping. “You do your own background check or did you get that from the little demon? He knew my whole story when I met him last week.”

“Little demon? You mean Damian? What was he doing here?” Dick sounds surprised.

“What other little demon is there? Kid needs to be leashed or something. Not too smart for a minor to come walking into a bar in the Bowery in the middle of the night.” _I’ve no problem with getting the little shit in trouble._

“You’re kidding, right?”

Jason looks up to give Dick a flat glare. “Why the fuck would I lie? Kid walked in like he owned the place and asked for a jack and coke, just like big brother Tim drinks. Last I heard, there’s something called a _law_ about serving alcohol to minors.”

Dick rubs his face, looking tired all of a sudden. “Yeah, he’s had a thing for thinking he’s above the law for as long as I’ve known him. I’ll talk to him.”

Jason doesn’t say anything as he tosses the sliced veggies into a small metal mixing bowl and goes to the flattop. Turning it on, he sprays down the surface with some cooking spray.

“I did do some looking into you on my own,” Dick says from where he’s been leaning casually against the wall on the opposite side of the small kitchen. “I was…curious. And concerned. You’re nothing like Tim’s other friends.”

“Not rich or educated enough?”

“No, not…not nerdy enough,” Dick replies honestly. “His best friends are a CSI in Central City and a journalist in Metropolis.”

_Bart and Connor. He’s mentioned them._

Jason opens his mouth to reply when he hears the backdoor open. He keeps the hinges squeaky on purpose. Tim walks in, ripped jeans, and what is very obviously one of Jason’s t-shirts. He’d spilled some beer on his jersey the night before. His hair is pulled back and he’s got a fierce look on his face like he’s about to go to war.

“Dick.” Tim says flatly, the intonation such that Jason’s not sure if he’s calling his brother by name or calling him an actual dick.

“Tim!” Dick says excitedly, stepping away from the wall in a rush to grab his brother in a hug. Jason notices Tim’s not returning the gesture. He rips open the package of bacon and starts laying out the strips to cook.

The sound startles Dick as he pulls back to look at Jason. _Some situational awareness you have there, Dickieboy._ “What is going on, Tim?” Dick asks earnestly. “You’ve been completely off the grid since you got back from your trip. Sasha could only tell me you’ve been in touch but that you’re refusing to tell her where you are. Tam closed up tighter than a clam, and Bart and Kon were clueless. Hell, even before you left, you’ve barely spoken to me. I’m _concerned._ ”

Jason wants to laugh at the big brother speech. Tim had told him about them, saying Dick usually means well and just wants everyone to get along; often playing the mediator for family squabbles. _But there’re just some things you can’t negotiate ‘big brother’._

“Then you’ll just have to be concerned for a bit longer, Dick. I’m not telling you what’s going on.” Tim’s taken Dick’s lapse in attention to step out of his octopus-like grip.

Dick makes a face. “Does he know?” he asks, pointing at Jason, who’s pouring the vegetable mix onto the flattop to cook. Grabbing his tongs, he flips the bacon.

“Yes,” Tim replies. “He’s the one who inspired the idea in the first place.”

“What is going on? I feel like I’m being kept in the dark by both you and Damian these days. Neither of you will talk to me anymore.”

“You can’t solve all of our problems for us, Dick. Especially when my biggest problem is Damian and vice versa.”

“You’re brothers! I don’t get why the two of you can’t get along.”

Tim sounds tired when he replies. “We’re not, Dick. I tried when he first arrived in Gotham and have had seven, almost eight years of backstabbing and bullshit from him. Constant reminders that we are not brothers and never will be. I’m not making the effort anymore. It’s not worth it.”

Jason can only imagine the thoughts going through Dick’s head at that statement. _Tim said Dick’s all about family, but what is he going to do when he hears something like that?_ He flips the bacon again and tosses the vegetables. Grabbing the eggs, he starts cracking several into the mixing bowl the veggies were in earlier.

Dick’s mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to process what Tim’s just told him. “Is that what this is about then? You’re distancing yourself from the family? God, Tim, if you won’t talk to me, then talk to Alfred! Don’t go taking your problems to some _stranger_ and letting him solve them for you!”

“Leave Jason out of this,” Tim snaps sharply. “And I have talked to Alfred. He thinks my plan is a good idea and something I need to do for myself. He at least is proud of me for making my own decisions about what _I_ want.”

Dick looks like Tim just slapped him across the face. “Tim…what are you going to do?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. I want you to leave now, Dick. Talk to Alfred if you want, but he’s not going to tell you either. Go back to Bludhaven.”

The stricken look on Dick’s face makes Jason want to laugh, but he chokes it back as he pours the beaten eggs into two separate pools by the sautéed vegetables. He goes to the fridge to look for some shredded cheese.

“If that’s what you want, Tim, then I’ll go,” Dick chokes out slowly. “But…when whatever you have planned is over or started or whatever, will you talk to me then?”

“I will. I promise.”

Dick looks at Jason quickly, then back to Tim. “Okay. I’ll see you soon then.” He turns and walks out.

Tim darts to the kitchen door, watching his brother cross the barroom floor and out the front door. He lets out a big sigh. “I’ll be right back. Gonna lock up after him.” He leaves the kitchen.

 _Holy crow, now that was an argument. And wow, Tim really knows how to put someone in their place. That was kinda hot._ He grabs some plates and finishes making the omelets, carefully arranging them on the plates with a lot of bacon. _Definitely a bacon morning._

Tim returns to the kitchen. He looks tired and sad, but very determined. Jason hands him a plate and gestures out to the bar where he keeps the flatware. He takes it and follows after the taller man.

“Gonna be okay?” Jason asks, handing Tim a fork.

“Yes,” Tim nods firmly. “It needed to be said.”

“Anything I can do?”

Tim chuckles tiredly. “Just be yourself."

“I can do that, easy. I’ve had lots of practice at being an asshole.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...who's ready for Bruce?


	9. Tim's Triumph?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with fanart by the wonderful Cat-Chan! <3 <3

Chapter 9 - Tim's Triumph?

Jason sits at his kitchen table, staring pensively into the cup of green tea sitting in front of him. Steam rises in little tendrils to disappear into the air. It’s Monday morning, normally too early for him to be up, but he barely slept the night before, so nervous was he for Tim and what he’s about to do.

Tim left Sunday afternoon just before Roy arrived to open the bar. After finishing breakfast, he’d dragged Jason back up to the loft, falling on him almost desperately. Knowing Tim needed to feel in control, not that Jason ever thought he lost it when he was handling Dick, he let Tim lead the way. Clothing was strewn all over the loft as they made their way to the bed and Tim made it quickly known what he wanted. The sensation of his long and slender fingers sliding in and out of Jason was not something he’d ever forget.

Nor would he forget the feeling of his cock slamming him into the mattress. Jason may be taller and more muscular than Tim, but the younger man had some strength to him as he held the bigger man in place. It was hard and desperate and when Tim finally came, it was with a shout and tears streaming down his face.

“I didn’t want it to be this way,” he’d choked out afterwards. “I wanted it to be special.”

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do,” Jason was quick to reassure Tim. “Shit happens. Life happens. And sometimes a good fuck is what you need to take the edge off. Yeah, it’s not how I wanted this to happen either, but _you_ needed it and I was willing. The next time, we’ll make it better.”

“You still want a next time?” Tim sniffed.

“What did I just tell you?” Jason asked as he pulled Tim close, ignoring the mess of his own come on his stomach. “Besides, the next time will be _after_ you tell your dad and WE where to shove it. And as a special gift, you’ll get to decide whether you want to top or bottom. I’m good either way.” He makes a point to poke Tim in the side in a spot he’s learned the shorter man is ticklish at.

Tim gasped in laughter, almost clawing his way out of Jason’s strong grip, but not getting very far. “Okay, okay,” he breathed as Jason stopped. “You win. I just…I don’t want you to think I’m using you. That I used you.”

“I know,” Jason said. “And if I thought for a second that you were, I’d have kicked your ass.”

Snuggling back into Jason’s chest, Tim cocked his head to look at Jason directly. “So for tomorrow…can I bottom from the top?” he asked in a hopeful tone.

“Fuck, yes,” Jason said vehemently. “But let’s work you up to it.”

Chuckling at the memory, Jason takes a sip of his rapidly cooling tea and looks at his watch. It’s almost 10.

_The board meeting starts soon. Tim said they can last for a couple of hours and that he’s not springing his resignation on them until the end when they ask if there’s any walk-ons. Said the timing has to be just right as Bruce has to fly down to DC for the afternoon and some meetings he can’t postpone or get out of. Government contracts, I think it was, so I guess that means Congressional bigwigs or hell, even military.  
_

_Christ, I won’t hear how it goes for at least another three hours. Normally, I’d be glad it’s Monday and that I don’t even have to open until mid-afternoon, but I’m on fucking pins and needles here. And if I’m on this kind of edge, I can only imagine what Tim’s feeling._

Drinking the rest of the tea quickly, Jason squares his shoulders and gets up, going to a corner of the loft where a heavy punching bag is hanging securely. He tapes up his hands and lets go, whaling on the bag with a series of punches and kicks and losing himself in the rhythm and activity.

Stress cooking only goes so far, especially when there’s no one around to cook for.

He used to lose himself in fighting, back when he was young and living on the streets and the library was closed for the night. The rush from a good fight was better than any high, not that he was dumb enough to lose himself to the drugs that numbed the pain of his mother’s long illness. As he got bigger, taller, _stronger_ , people even started offering him money to beat the snot out of others as a warning. It was tempting to take it, especially in the winter. And he did, the first few times, because he was _young_ and _desperate_. But the time someone came to him to beat up a woman for not paying her protection money on time for her shop, he beat the shit out of them instead, gladly relieving them of the money in the process. That was the last time.

It was around then that he started trying to find legit work. He was 16, but looked like he was pushing 20 already. He met Mike and the rest is history.

Jason sends a solid right hook into the bag, followed by a finishing roundhouse kick that would send a man flying if it were directed at them. He grabs hold of the bag to stop the swinging, breathing hard, and sweat dripping into his eyes.

Removing the tape from his hands, he picks up his watch. 10:45. _Fuck me, but today’s going to last forever._

***** 

The call, when it finally comes, is on Jason’s cell. He’d promised Tim he would keep it on him at all times before opening the bar at 3. If he called later, it would be on the office phone.

“What happened?” Jason asks, dropping his chef’s knife with a clatter on the metal table in the bar kitchen. It’s almost 2 in the afternoon, much later than he’d expected.

“Sorry, this is the first time I could get away,” Tim replies, sounding a bit breathless. “I’m up on the roof, it’s the only place to escape to around here.”

Jason blinks at that. “That building is what? 100 stories? And you’re on the fucking roof. Did you lose some brain cells today?”

“78 actually, and no, I did not.” Jason hears what he now knows to be the wind over the connection. “There’s a railing.”

“Whatever, just don’t go thinking you can fly or rappel your way down. So what happened?"

Tim sighs. “It went as well as could be expected. The meeting actually ran later than I thought, as everyone wanted to know how my trip went, even though they all had the report I wrote up. Bruce was asking all kinds of questions, which is rare for him since he usually just reads my report and moves on to the next order of business. I think Dick may have tipped him off that something was up and that he needed to keep an eye on me.”

“And the brat?”

“Actually at school for once!” Tim sounds excited. “Unless one of his few flunkies have sent him a message already, he has no clue and won’t until he comes in later. He works part-time in the afternoon.”

“Great, one less thing!” Jason’s trying really hard not to tell Tim to get on with it already. _It’s his fucking day, let him tell it._

“I know, right? So anyway,” Tim continues. “The meeting is already about 20 minutes over time and Lucius asks if there’s any walk-ons more as a formality at this point as everyone’s itching to go. Bruce is already looking at his watch as he’s got to leave like now. I stand up and hand a folder to Bruce with my letter in it. He asks what it is, and I tell him to read it. Out loud to everyone.”

Tim pauses and Jason doesn’t disappoint. “Christ, this is getting better and better. Like a fucking drama.”

“Oh, it gets better,” Tim replies. “Bruce starts reading the letter out loud and just _stops_ when he realizes what it is. Jason, I’ve never seen that man go so pale in my life. He was actually shaking.”

“Was he angry? I know some people get that way when they’re mad.”

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. He put his wall up, it’s this look of his he gets when he’s suppressing really strong emotions, and hands the letter back to me. Walks right out of the room without saying another word.”

“Oh fuck. Then what?” Jason’s sitting on the counter at this point, hanging onto Tim’s every word.

“Everyone’s kind of gotten the gist of what it is I gave to Bruce, so I hand the folder to Lucius instead. He gives me this look, like ‘gee, thanks Tim’, and proceeds to read the rest of the letter to everyone. I suspect he knew something was up too, the way he looked at Tam afterwards. Anyhow, everyone starts freaking out and asking what they can do to keep me on. I’ve been wined and dined and pretty much fucking bribed to stay on. Bruce may not be able to see it, but the rest of the board does, and my leaving paves the way for Damian. One man even told me that if Damian Wayne becomes a member of the board of directors, he’s resigning. This guy’s been a member for almost 20 years. God, I knew Damian’s not well liked, but this was impressive.”

“And your resignation is effective when exactly? You were toying with the end of the year last I heard.”

Jason hears a strong gust of wind, then Tim’s reply. “My last day is December 31. As of January 1, I am a free man. Happy fucking New Year to me.”

“We are going to get so smashed that night.” He starts thinking ahead to New Year’s at the bar and how to make adjustments.

Tim laughs. “Why wait til New Years? I fully intend to get drunk with you tonight. And I don’t care if I have to wait until the Monday night football game is over to get started.” He sounds jubilant, carefree in a way Jason’s never heard before.

“Sounds like a plan to me. You going to work tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

“Bring an overnight bag. And one of your game systems if you want to play.”

“There’s only one thing I plan to be playing with. Or three things actually.” Tim’s voice slides into a seductive purr.

Jason feels his cock twitch in excitement. “I’ll be waiting.”

***** 

Sometimes Jason wonders why he even bothers opening the bar at 3 in the afternoon. It’s exceptionally rare for anyone to come wandering in before 5 to get a quick drink before heading home. But it’s good reading time for him and he brings down the copy of _Henry IV, Part II_ he started reading earlier before Tim’s call. Shakespeare is soothing to him, but there’s something in this particular play that he wanted to read today.

He’s just into Act 3 when the door to the bar opens. Bright sunlight hides the features of the person who enters the bar from Jason until the door falls shut behind them, revealing quite possibly the last person Jason expects to see today.

It’s Bruce Wayne.

Tall, much taller than his pictures make him appear and built like he should be wearing one of the suits of armor in Jason’s play instead of the impeccably tailored suit he’s wearing. Black hair graying at the temples and the same piercing blue eyes of his youngest son. Even standing still and eyeing Jason, the man exudes a presence, almost like he’s looming without actually doing so.

_Pretty obvious Damian takes after daddy, but unless I’m mistaken, that little shit is never going to have those shoulders._

Jason squares his own broad shoulders and sets his book on the bar after marking his place. “Welcome,” he drawls. “What can I get you?” _I am not going to let this man intimidate me. But shit, Tim’s descriptions of him are nothing compared to reality. He’s had to live with this for how long? No wonder he can go toe to toe with Damian day after day. What the fuck is he doing here? Tim said he’s supposed to be out of town.  
_

Wayne slowly approaches the bar and sits down, undoing the buttons of his expensive suit jacket as he does so, revealing more of his crisp white shirt and blue striped tie. He continues to eye Jason warily, his blue eyes darting to the play lying on the counter, then back to Jason. “Scotch, neat.” His voice is a deep baritone, almost a growl.

Jason smirks. “Lucky for you, I only have good scotch. But then again, considering what you’re probably used to, it’ll taste like piss.” He turns his back on the man and walks a few steps further down from where the big man is sitting. Along the back wall of the bar is where he keeps what he considers all the good alcohol. There for everyone to see, but only broken into when someone requests it special. Smiling when he sees a particular bottle, he grabs it and a small tulip-shaped glass.

He turns back to Wayne and sees him holding his book, open at where he’d marked the page. Setting the bottle down with a _thump_ , Jason quirks an eyebrow. “Get a lot of time to read for fun, Mr. Wayne?”

“Not as often as I’d like.” Tim’s father looks at Jason, then the bottle he’s set down. “Aberfeldy 21 Year Single Malt Scotch. That will hardly taste like piss, Mr. Todd.”

Jason laughs sharply at Wayne’s use of his name. “The name’s Jason. Anyone who calls me Mr. Todd is usually trying to sell something I don’t want.”

A slight quirk of the man’s lips tells Jason he’s amused. “Then call me Bruce. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other in the future.”

“Not sure how exactly, but I’ll bite.” Jason removes the stopper from the bottle of scotch and pours exactly halfway up the tumbler. He sets the bottle down and replaces the cap.

“You’re dating my son,” Bruce says calmly as he takes the glass, passing it briefly under his nose to catch the fragrance of the liquid before taking a sip. “I suppose that means we’ll be seeing you at Thanksgiving in a couple weeks.”

_How the fucking hell does he know Tim and I are dating? We just made it official this weekend._

“What makes you think we’re dating?”

“Tim always goes to great pains to hide from Dick when he’s in a relationship. Dick has a tendency to get…overexcited.”

“No shit?” Jason says sarcastically. “Dude’s got octo-arms.”

“And legs. It’s a fully body thing if he manages to take you down.” Bruce takes another sip. He looks at the book he’s set down. “A bartender who reads Shakespeare.”

“I’m allowed to have a hobby.”

“True, but I’d much rather your hobby isn’t my son.”

_Getting to the point at last. Something tells me he’s lashing out at me in retaliation for what Tim’s done. Thinks this is somehow my fault. Well, it kinda is, but Tim’s the one who did all the work._

“Last time I checked, Tim is a big boy who can make his own decisions.”

“Hmm…” Bruce continues to keep a level look on Jason. “And just how thoroughly have you checked?”

_Very thoroughly. Your boy’s a screamer, did you know that?_

Jason snorts. “You’re funny, Bruce. Now let’s cut the bullshit and tell me why you’re really here. A dive bar in the Bowery is hardly the place for one of the richest men in world.”

“And yet my son has been coming here for almost three months now. He’s rich in his own right, you know. One of the most eligible bachelors on the planet.” Bruce’s tone is innocent, or as innocent as his growl can sound, but his eyes bore into Jason.

He scowls, feeling the flush of red rising on the back of his neck signaling his anger. “You think I’m friends with Tim because of his money? You’re a fucking asshole. Take a look around, Bruce,” Jason gestures to the bar around them, “this is all mine. This whole building. I technically don’t have to work another day if I want to hire another couple of people to tend the bar. I work because I want to. Because I like it. Sitting around with my thumb up my ass doing nothing isn’t exactly my style. So fuck you.”

Another quirk of Bruce’s lips reveals he’s amused yet again by Jason. He calmly takes another sip of scotch. “And what if you’re offered the chance to go back to school? Anything and anywhere you want to. All expenses paid, regardless of your grades, though I saw your records, so I doubt I’d see anything less than an A, even if you want to get a doctorate. Would you leave Tim alone then?”

_Here’s that background check Dickieboy mentioned. He’s fucking testing me. Goddamned motherfucker. Two can play this game._

Jason puts on his cocky as hell, shit-eating smirk. The one that pisses off Stephanie each time she sees it and drives Tim wild. “He’s actually offered that already. Said he’d do it in a heartbeat if he thought I’d accept it. Something about living up to my potential. So what makes you think if I won’t accept it from him, that I’ll accept it from you?”

Bruce picks up the glass and gives Jason a small salute. “You’ll have to forgive me for asking. There’s a lot of people out there who would simply want him because of what he can pay for.”

“I’m sure there are, but tell me, _Bruce_ , do the ones with certain dollar amounts in their bank accounts get this same offer?”

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t had the chance to meet any of Tim’s previous girlfriends to make the offer,” he replies dryly. “And no, you being a man doesn’t factor into it at all.”

_What the hell is he up to? Now he’s trying to be all chummy. Think, Jaybird, think. He’s just had his son give him the biggest finger and fuck you in the world and walked out in what Tim thought was anger. He’s not acting like an angry man; he’s concerned for Tim and his wellbeing and fucking testing me to see if I’m good enough. I already know I’m fucking not. He’s…oh shit. Oh shit. Tim may have miscalculated exactly how much his leaving is going to hurt his dad.  
_

Jason glances at the play. _Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown…  
_

He makes a decision. Tim may not appreciate it later, but they can work that out. “He’s not leaving solely because of you, you know. There’re a couple of other factors going into it.”

Bruce’s shoulders _slump_ , like he’d been keeping them straight and even by shear force of will. A weariness Jason’s only ever seen on Tim washes over his handsome face, lines Jason barely noticed now appearing deeper around his mouth and eyes. “You can say Damian. I know that’s really what this is all about.” He sounds exhausted.

“Not entirely, but mostly,” Jason replies honestly, the bite and sarcasm he’s been speaking to Bruce with gone. “What it boils down to is Tim believes you’ve lost your faith and belief in him. That you no longer trust him and the decisions he makes. The thing with the chip was the last straw. He is _passionate_ about that thing and you essentially hung him out to dry at Damian’s suggestion.”

The slump deepens and Bruce heaves a great sigh. “Has he come out and said that?”

Jason shrugs. “Not quite. But I’ve gotten rather well versed in ‘Tim’ speak over the last few months. He’s an open book to me, which I find kind of hilarious considering what he does for a living. I sure hope he’s not like that in the boardroom.”

Bruce shakes his head, a look of pride appearing on his lined face. “No, he’s not. He’s sharp. Focused. In control. His mother would be proud of him. He gets it from her.”

“That look on your face, right there, that’s what Tim needs to see. He needs to know you believe in him.”

“I do believe in him,” Bruce says quietly. “I always have. And that’s why I need to let him go.”

“I really hope that by ‘letting go’ you’re not planning on cutting him off from his family. I may just have to punch you if you are.” _Goddamn, but he sounds defeated._

“No,” Bruce shakes his head. “He needs to do this. He needs to take his project and make a name for himself. It’s an incredible piece of work that needs to be continued and developed. He needs to be Timothy _Drake_ -Wayne, not just Timothy Wayne like he is at WE. Does he…has he started his own company yet? The paperwork at least?” He looks up at Jason almost desperately.

_Shit, but I called it. Damn Waynes, and Drakes, and Graysons and whatever the hell the demon is. Secrets for the sake of keeping secrets_.

“He has. Drake Industries Inc.”

Bruce smiles. An honest to god smile that lights up his entire face, the look of pride shining fiercely through it all. _I wish I had a camera to take a picture of this._

“I gotta ask. If you’re so goddamned proud of Tim, then why haven’t you said so?”

“Sometimes, one has to fall in order to learn how to fly. I’ve always known Tim will soar high. I’m not so sure about Damian. With Tim gone, he may think he’s won, but I know he’ll have to fall even further to get the lift he needs.”

_Fuck, the man really does know his sons. Man, Tim called that wrong.  
_

Bruce nods, a sense of finality about it and finishes his scotch. “Jason, it’s truly a pleasure having met you.” Bruce holds out his hand. “Tim’s very lucky to have you in his life.”

Jason takes Bruce’s hand, shaking it firmly. The man’s grip is strong like he expects. “He’s not the only one,” he says. “I’m constantly wondering what the hell he sees in me.”

“I see it,” Bruce replies. “And it’s a very attractive quality indeed.” He stands up and pulls out his wallet. “I was being sarcastic earlier when I said it, but I’m serious now. You are most welcome to come to Thanksgiving dinner at Wayne Manor. I’ll make sure Damian behaves.”

“Good luck with that.” Jason refuses the card Bruce tries to hand him. “Consider the first one on the house. What I really ought to be charging for are Wayne family therapy sessions. I’m a bartender for Christ’s sake, not a camp counselor.”

“Then perhaps you’ve missed your true calling,” Bruce says as he slips the black card back into his wallet and pulls out a business card instead, handing it to Jason. “If you should ever need me for anything, please don’t hesitate to call.” He nods again and walks out.

Jason stares at the card in his hand, then at the door, then back to the card. He pulls out his own wallet and puts it away. Picking up the discarded glass, he sets it below the countertop and looks at the scotch. Grabbing one of his normal shot glasses, he fills it to the brim with the amber liquid and slams it back.

***** 

Tim arrives just before the game starts, still in his suit and tie, and carrying his usual black messenger back and his backpack. He’s wearing the biggest smile when Jason sees him, one that’s really lighting up his eyes. The bar’s a bit crowded and Tim’s usual spot is taken, but he easily shoves his way through to greet Jason.

“Do you need a hand with anything? I can go change in back really quick.”

_No, not going to let you. I’ve got plans for taking that suit off you later._ Jason shakes his head. “No, I’m fine. There’s a plate for you in the kitchen. Want you to eat something before I start pouring liquor down your throat.”

“Pickles?” Despite his professed love of Jason’s curry fries, he still enjoys the pickles and spicy aioli more.

“Yes, as well as some other things.” _Hope he likes the surprise._

“Thanks, Jay!” Tim heads to the back.

As the game starts, Jason chats up a few of his regulars, a couple of them commenting on the young man in the nice suit. “He’s my boyfriend,” Jason tells them bluntly. “That gonna be a problem?”

No, they were quick to reassure Jason. One of them even admits that one of his sons is gay. “I love my boy,” he tells Jason as he takes a swig from his beer. “I just want what any father wants for his kids, ya know? For them to be happy and to make something more of themselves than their old man did. I’m happy for ya, Jay. You’ve been alone for too long. Mike wouldn’ta wanted that for ya.”

Jason makes a point to wipe the man’s tab clean without telling him. _Free booze for you tonight. This world needs more nonjudgmental people and good dads in it._

It’s almost 30 minutes later that Tim emerges from the back. He’s ditched his jacket somewhere and removed his tie. In his hand is the new cell phone Jason had left by his plate of pickles, salad, and chicken tenders, along with a note.

Tim finds an open spot and Jason starts pouring his jack and coke. “You got a new phone,” he says accusingly. “When did you get this?”

“While you were gone,” Jason replies as he sets the drink in front of Tim. “Stephanie helped me figure out how to use it. I told her not to download a lot of shit onto it, but she didn’t listen, like usual. Did you clean it up?”

“Yes,” Tim replies. He sets the phone down on the counter and takes an eager drink. “Most of what was on there is complete crap you’ll never use, so I deleted the lot of it. Synced it to my laptop for an update too, so it’s running faster now. I added a couple apps I thought you might like too.”

“I knew I was right to leave it with you. Part of that misspent youth you won’t tell me about?” he teases. _All I got him to admit to is that he knows how to hack computers. There’s a story there and I want to hear it. That laptop of his is his own design and system; he told me that long ago. That’s skill._

Tim makes a face and shoves his hair back from his face, tying it back with a hairband he’s grabbed from somewhere. “Perhaps with a few more drinks, I might start spilling.”

“I'll hold you to that!” Jason crows. He’s pulled away by a shout from the other end of the bar for a refill, then back to the kitchen for some chili fries. _It’s an even split on which is more popular._ By the time he comes back out, Tim’s finished his first drink and is chatting up the people on either side of him. One of the women is giving him a flirty smile that is either going straight over Tim’s head or is being purposefully ignored, Jason can’t quite tell.

He drops off the orders and makes his way back down the bar, refilling drinks as he goes. “Want another or some water for now?” he asks when he makes his way back to Tim.

“Water,” Tim replies. “It’s not even 8 yet, so it’s way too early still. I'll have another though when I’m done this,” he gestures to the water Jason’s just handed him, nodding firmly at the decision like it’s the most important one he’s made today.

Jason chuckles and resists the urge to reach across the bar to ruffle Tim’s hair. “Just say when,” he says and moves on.

At halftime, Jason relents and lets Tim assist him behind the bar while he’s running kitchen orders. He’d forgotten the two teams playing tonight were popular teams, which would bring in more people. _Been a little distracted recently. Totally worth it, but I should have called Steph to see if she wanted the extra hours. She’d have come in for three hours, even on a Monday night._ Laden with one of his huge trays, Jason exits the kitchen to see Tim expertly pouring beer from the tap into a frosted pitcher.

With his hair pulled back, sleeves rolled up, and collar open, he looks like any other regular guy. A normal person. And yet, hidden by the bar are a pair of dress pants and shoes that likely cost more than the combined clothing cost of almost every person in the room. _I wonder what these guys would think if they knew one of the Wayne heirs is serving them beer. I guess time will tell._

__  


Tim finally takes his second drink during the third quarter of the game, then another glass of water during the fourth. Jason shuts down the kitchen after 10, cleaning quickly while Tim once again tends bar for him. As people start leaving, Tim disappears into the back for a little bit, then comes back out to ask for his third. “I think I’m ready for it,” he says with a smile. He looks pleased with himself.

Jason chuckles and does ruffle his hair this time. “Sure thing, rich boy.”

By 11, the bar’s empty and Jason makes the decision to close before anyone else can come stumbling in. He locks up quickly and turns off the lights in the windows. He walks through the bar, turning off TVs as he goes. Tim’s already taken a large tray of dirty glasses to the back, carefully holding on with both hands, insisting he wasn’t that buzzed yet. Entering the kitchen, he spots Tim at the sink rinsing everything and loading the dishwasher.

“What’d you do, take notes from Kori and Steph?”

“Roy actually,” Tim replies. “He gave me a checklist.”

“I made that fucking list for him after he kept forgetting to turn off the TVs on the nights he’d close alone,” Jason laughs. “If you’re okay back here, I’ll grab the till and count down. But before I do…” He walks up behind Tim, boxing him in with his hands on either side of the large sink. He feels Tim relax back into Jason’s warm body and hears the clatter of the glass he drops against the stainless steel sink.

Jason leans down and starts nuzzling at Tim’s neck, trying to move the stiff collar to access the skin hidden beneath. He growls in frustration and Tim turns around, arms reaching up to draw Jason into a kiss. He’s ready and eager to go as Jason works his way into Tim’s warm mouth, tasting the whiskey and coke he’s been drinking all night. He wraps his arms tightly around the shorter man and holds him close so there’s nothing separating the two of them aside from their clothes.

_Been wanting to do this all evening. Hell, all day. It’s finally time to celebrate._

He’d long since decided that he isn’t going to tell Tim about Bruce’s visit until later, much later.

Tim’s starting to pull at Jason’s shirt, running his hands over whatever warm skin he can touch. Jason pulls back with a moan. “10 minutes,” he says. “Just give me 10 minutes to finish everything, then we’ll grab your whiskey and a bottle of soda, and go upstairs.”

“Make it quick,” Tim whispers. “I’m ready and waiting.”

Jason runs back to the front, grabs the cash till from the register and the tablet he uses for electronic payments, and dashes back to his office. He hooks up the tablet to the computer and starts the nightly batch and locks the till in the safe, not even bothering to count it.

_I’m closed tomorrow, I’ll deal with it later._

Checking to make sure everything is locked up properly, Jason heads out front with a sign he’s made to hang in the front window. It simply says “Closed” and Tuesday’s date. Nodding in satisfaction, he ducks behind the bar, grabs a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, and enters the kitchen.

Tim’s waiting for him, the sound of the dishwasher running in the background. He’s got his bags and his coat, and has a bottle of coke in his hand. “Ready?” he asks.

“Ready. Let’s go.”

They practically run up the four flights of stairs, Tim almost keeping pace with Jason as they pound up the steps. Tim’s gasping and laughing as Jason fumbles with his keys, eventually finding the right one and unlocking his front door. Tim pushes past Jason, dropping his bags with a gentle _thump_ on the light paneled flooring and makes a beeline for the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from Jason first. Locking the door behind him, Jason watches Tim try and figure out which size glass he wants to use.

“While you make your oh so important decision, I’m gonna grab a quick shower. I reek.”

Tim’s eyes light up behind his glasses. “I’ll join you. It’s been a long day for me.”

_I can always play with his tie later. Perhaps a quickie in the shower is just what we both need to take the edge off._

“What’re we waitin’ for then?”

It’s not until they’re naked and in the shower that Jason finally finds out what Tim’s been looking so smug about for the last hour. “You prepped yourself in the back of the bar,” he says in surprise, two of his fingers already buried in Tim’s lubed entrance, as he presses the shorter man firmly against the wet tiles, warm water steaming around them. Tim’s got his cock in hand, playing with the barbell piercing the tip and stroking up and down in a steady pace.

“Your office actually. I picked the lock.” Tim gasps as Jason picks up the pace.

“You picked the lock. Part of that misspent youth?” He licks up the side of Tim’s neck, nipping a bit about halfway up.

“Yes,” Tim rasps out. “Now are you going to fuck me or what? There’s a condom in my pants pocket, back left.”

Jason slams open the door to the shower stall, almost trips on his pants as he exits, and finds Tim’s pants. He finds the condom, rips open the packet and rolls it on in one smooth movement. Turning, he sees Tim watching him, hand stroking his own cock as he waits for Jason. The water from the shower head directly above him is pouring down on Tim, his long black hair falling into his eyes in wet strands and his head tilted back against the tile, revealing the long line of his slender neck. Blue eyes peer out from heavy lidded eyes.

_He’s so fucking gorgeous.  
_

Stepping back into the shower, Jason kisses Tim deeply, thoroughly, employing every trick he knows to keep the man relaxed and pliant. Tim wraps his arms around Jason’s neck and the larger man takes this as his signal to grasp Tim’s narrow hips and lift him off his feet. Feeling Tim’s legs wrap around his waist, Jason shifts his hips, aligning himself properly, and slides home.

*****

Later, much later, Jason and Tim are in bed, with the younger man stretched out next to him, one leg pulled up and resting on Jason’s thigh. Neither have bothered getting dressed and Tim’s idly playing with Jason’s nipple rings. It’s been a favorite pastime of his this weekend when they’re lying like this, relaxed and satiated, but not yet ready to go to sleep. Neither of them are all that buzzed either, having only taken the time to make one drink each before losing themselves a second time in much more enjoyable activities.

Tim’s telling him about Damian’s reaction to his leaving. “The demon wanted to escort me out of the building right then and there. The look on his face when Lucius told him he couldn’t do that was _hilarious!_ ”

Jason chuckles as Tim finishes, and takes a swig from the water bottle he grabbed before they came to bed. He hands it to Tim, watching him shift so he could drink without spilling it all over.

_It’s time. He needs to know. This should be Bruce telling him, but somehow I doubt he’ll ever make it past a pat on the shoulder and a ‘good job’. Fucking Waynes._

Taking the water bottle back and capping it, Jason sets it aside and holds Tim close. “So you’ll never believe who walked into my bar today…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I get lynched, no, this is not the end. As some of you may know from the comments, I'm planning a sequel. I was going to do them as inter-connected oneshots, but now I'm thinking I may just do a whole second story line. I really want to explore Tim's trials of getting his own business up and running, how this decision impacts everyone in his family, as well as his relationship with Jason.
> 
> I'm also contemplating a oneshot from Damian's POV when he gets that huge humble pie shoved in his face when he realizes precisely what Tim's done to him.
> 
> But, these will be in the future as I have The Cleansing to finish up and a Myth-Bats story to get done first. Until next time! Thank you all for your comments and kudos!


End file.
